


Heart of Light, Key of Life

by enpleurs



Category: VIXX
Genre: A/B/O, Fantasy, Incomplete, M/M, WOLF EARS AND TAILS BC I CAN, see notes for warnings re: a/b/o, side pairings: neo chanbin(deul), with light steampunk influences
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9097729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enpleurs/pseuds/enpleurs
Summary: Jaehwan runs a flower shop with Sanghyuk and Hongbin, when one day, an alpha, Taekwoon, barges into their lives. Despite being an omega, Jaehwan stops him from taking Sanghyuk. Although Jaehwan is reunited with childhood friend Hakyeon, also an alpha, their peaceful lives are uprooted and the future is tossed into uncertainty. Unbeknownst to them, life as they'd known it would have soon ended anyway; the war waged over the Shining City years ago had continued to take its silent toll, and has finally reached its tipping point. Hakyeon and Taekwoon, both guards to the Third Prince, struggle with the very real possibility of the end of the entire City and seek an answer to halt its destruction, while Jaehwan finds himself thrown into their lives - and more crucially, Taekwoon's life. 
(aka keo fantasy (w/ steampunk elements)-a/b/o-hybrid au. or where taekwoon is kind of a childish dick and jaehwan is seriously nhft)





	1. Encounters of the First Kind

**Author's Note:**

> although the a/b/o is purposed more as a rigid class structure, this fic does include implied and mentions of non-con, sexual violence (not main characters), as well as one character having a history where a friend was raped and killed. there is one dub-con scene between ken and leo much further on that will be warned for at the start of the chapter (which may or may not be explicit? but will happen). honestly, 'hybrid au' just means i thought everyone would look cute with wolf ears and tails. ~~this fic is planned/outlined to be ~150k, although my track record with chaptered fic is less than reassuring, as a heads-up.~~ (eta: this fic will not be continued.) rating may change if writer's block hits and i figure i might as well throw in a sex scene. poor ravi continues to be the bridesmaid but he's just SO HELPFUL (with possibility of hyukvi). ig this fic can mostly be summed up as "taekwoon is a childish dick and jaehwan is nhft and the world might possibly be ending??? and a. is still obsessed with gear trains??" title might change as i'm unsure if i like the current one /o\ other than that, this is just my pet project and is mostly just for fun!

From the land, one was greeted with walls—great stone walls built stone by stone, stacked three layers deep. Massive gates, ornate, burnished bronze. There were smaller gates set at lesser roads, but one would not have seen those, unless one were looking for them. Instead, the three great gates drew one’s eye—the first, a portcullis, grated, like the days of old. The second, two glided panels, that slid into the walls. And the third, the last one would enter, upon arriving to the city, a set of doors, as tall as three men, that swung inwards, into a bustling hub of life. When closed, the engravings formed a set of interlocking gears, the design for some device more intricate than any known to man, except, perhaps, the woman who had designed it. But, only once in the history of the city, had those gates ever been closed.

From the sea, one was greeted with a hill. A tiered hill, with three large steps carved clearly into it. There were no walls between the steps, none, at least, made of stone. The port was wide and large, and protected by heavy chains that could be pulled up at a minute’s notice, sealing off the narrow gap through which ships could sail and dock. Upon disembarking, if one were lucky enough, they would be swept away on the gondolas that travelled up the hill, stopping twice in the middle, and another, midway to the top. The one that rode to the peak was not one rode on pure luck. For the others, they could perhaps rent a carriage, one pulled by horse or Beast, the first, unreliable and easily startled, the second, clunky, yet built to transverse the roads of the city. Few who came by ship came to mingle among the ports, to walk the steps to the lowest of the three tiers. Not from the port.

From the air, one saw the great sprawl of human civilization, the roads that snaked down the side of a hill, pausing their serpentine paths downwards to circle about once, twice, before resuming, perhaps on the side cast with shadow, instead of the sunlit one they started on, or perhaps it was the other way around. One could see ever more clearly the stark shift between one step and the other, between the lines that were more defined than any walls could draw. But, what one saw most of all from the air, were the jagged corners of what was otherwise the outline of a blindingly white circle. It encompassed a building—tall, stately, with a tower that spiraled upwards in a fashion that defied the heavens. And nestled within this tower—or more accurately, the tower spun and wound its way about it—were a set of three silver rings, held together by a system of metal gears, intercast, interlocked, each moving, moving, moving, each pushing, driving, clicking, as the rings spun about themselves and about each other. The land around it was thick with greenery, interrupted by small manors, arranged, in three layers, as if standing on guard about the tower and the contraption it encompassed.

But beyond the walls, beneath the spiraling tower, is the heart and the soul of the city.

A young man, his usual long white coat tossed carelessly over the branch of a tree. A revolver sits at his hip, but what he carries now is his blade, as long as his arm. The steel dances through the air as if it were part of him, if he were made of the wind.

A clockmaker, also young, working late into the night. The workshop is lit with lamps that have burned for many hours and will burn for many more. He bends over the table, scattered with tools. His creation is not a clock.

In a house nestled between two others, small enough to be cozy, large enough to be spacious, he lies awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his tail curled nervously around his alpha’s wrist. There is a sense of something, a premonition, the faint set of anxiety that seeped in regardless of what tomorrow may bring.

Another joins the young man in the white coat. He is dressed plainly, a vest of brown leather, his own revolver hidden in a pocket within. His eyes laugh when he smiles, and he brings his friend a box of sweets, and a favour to ask—the former is eagerly devoured, the latter, accepted with caution.

And on a street set respectfully far from the port, but not so far as to breach a metaphorical wall, there is a small flower shop across from a bakery, besides the grocer, nestled within a town within a town. He shuts the door quietly as he leaves the boy sleeping inside—although in truth, the boy has since grown into a lankily tall young man. Two of the moons have risen tonight—one barely arcing over the horizon, the other blazing blue in the sky. He can see them through the window, before he shutters it, and the world outside disappears from view.

And the gears of the Shining City tick on.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

"Oi, Hongbin, get your ass in here before I have to drag you in!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" A pair of light brown ears perked up from among the flowers followed by a matching head of tousled hair. His companion laughed at his long suffering sigh as he made a shooing motion, gesturing him towards the door. They were almost of a height, although with the way the younger has been growing, this would not be true for long.

The sky was speckled with white clouds, the day pleasant if not a little on the warm side. A light breeze eased it and under the shadow of the eaves, it felt briefly chill. It was midmorning, the sun halfway up the sky. People had long since risen to go about their business and the streets were filled with the sort of cheerful optimism that accompanied such bright days. The war had been near forgotten, in the way such things were forgotten. It lingered at times, on days when clouds shaded the city, when the rain washed through the streets—reminders of the day the sky was dark and fire had rained down in brutal waves, when the water that ran down the steps were dyed red. It would be long years yet before that memory was washed away, like that day had been washed away in the deluge that followed.

Across the street, the baker's assistant was wiping down the windows. He shot Sanghyuk a pleading glance, but like he'd done with Hongbin, Sanghyuk just waved and laughed.

Perhaps this was a strange place for a flower shop, but it sat far enough up the hill that there was enough ease and time for such things. The shop was not big but every inch of it was filled with planters and with such contraptions of mirrors and glass that it was dizzying for those who walked inside for the first time. A tangled collection of roses sat in the back room, occupying a more than substantial space, while the wall beside was host to bright splashes of narcissus and daffodils. Shielded gaps were nestled throughout the floor above, flooded with bright sun when the shutters opened on days such as this one. Most of the rays were directed towards the leafy greens, but on the upper floor, set on a series of stepped shelves were baskets of faceted crystals, light bouncing within them, letting off a soft glow. Cases of them sat between and behind the plants, their light trapped and hidden, stored away for the long stretches of gray days that inevitably followed the weeks of cold. The upper floor was also host to the heart of the shop—the series of cables and pulleys and gears that shifted the sheets of glass, both clear and silvered, nearly imperceptibly, second by second, minute by minute.

"What's the big rush?" Hongbin complained as he climbs the stairs. He hoisted a bucket of water up with him. They'd hit a dry spell, and the tanks on the roof were running low. Maybe, when Wonsik had time, they should ask him to fix something up that can pull water up from the wells. If he could build the inside of this shop, Hongbin was sure that he could do anything.

Jaehwan was barely visible among the flowers. He peered out around a shelf, his eyes narrowed in a mock glare, ear twitching in annoyance. Leaves were caught in his hair, effectively destroying any intimidation he might've enjoyed.

Hongbin just laughed.

"Well, here I am, your Majesty," he said. He dropped the bucket onto the floor with a sigh of relief, shaking out stiff shoulders.

"Well, look who finally decided to do his job," Jaehwan growled.

They both knew that Hongbin had been outside helping Sanghyuk arrange the goods but Hongbin didn't mind the way Jaehwan liked to pretend he hadn't. It would've been strange if he didn't.

"I'll take this row, yeah?" Hongbin gestured towards the far walls, which he knew Jaehwan had yet to do.

"Downstairs will be easier," Jaehwan assured him.

Hongbin, having been the one hauling buckets of water up the stairs, quite agreed. He hated the dry season.

The dry season always worried Jaehwan. Perhaps 'always' was a strong word, when this was only the fifth dry season they'd had. More dry seasons than he'd thought they would have.

Jaehwan watched as Hongbin moved off along the rows. They'd been placed in such a way that sunlight could be directed between them and into the windows to the floor below. Here were the azaleas, and the tulips. The violets too, and more tulips. The room was a heady mix of fragrances; the perfume of the flowers, the freshness of green, the warmth of the soil. His fingers lingered in it, the soft grains covering his skin, grounding him. He closed his eyes, briefly, in contentment.

This place was truly a miracle.

"I have some paperwork to take care of," Jaehwan said. Hongbin sounded a grumbled acknowledgement, his tail flickering in annoyance between the leaves of the tulips. Jaehwan gave him a fond look before descending downstairs.

The arrangement was a strange one—Hongbin, a beta, working in a shop in the lower quarters. His neighbours had regarded him with some suspicion when he'd first moved in, but now they accepted Hongbin as one of their own. The suspicion had grown ten fold when Wonsik had come to tinker—to finally put in place the heart of this shop. It had been a night's work and a half, for the half had to be done during the day. It was good that, in the parlance of the upper quarters, Wonsik was only a mongrel. But that had been years ago. Jaehwan hadn't seen Wonsik much since but Hongbin often visited him at his workshop, on occasion bringing back the trinkets Wonsik was prone to work on when he wasn't busy with the clockwork.

Sanghyuk...now Sanghyuk was truly the strange one. Metaphorically showed up on his doorstep and Jaehwan had taken care of him since…more or less. Even now, he didn't know where Sanghyuk had come from, who his family had been, what he'd been doing before Jaehwan had found him curled up between two buildings, hair still dripping with the incessant rain. It had been the year after the blood rain and Jaehwan hadn't asked questions. The questions were still raw in his own chest. He'd been working at the docks back then, with a room up seven flights of rickety stairs. The boy had been near comatose, his ears drooping, his tail dragging behind him on the floor, the same muddy brown as the rest of him. That had been a long time ago.

Outside, under the clear sun, Sanghyuk guided a customer indoors to the very front of the shop where he'd already signalled for Hongbin to take her payment. Meanwhile, he wrapped up her flowers, winding a ribbon about the edges, placing it in her basket once done and sending her off with a smile.

His hair was a deep, nut brown, nearer the edge of black than anything else. Under the sun it glowed faintly burnished and was a stark contrast to the green planters and the colourful flowers he works among. Cut flowers and potted plants were mingled—Sanghyuk preferred it that way because it reminded him that the cut flowers still lived, for however brief the time would be. He also liked playing with the colours. Some days he set them in complements, some days as a gradient. Today, he hummed as he switched one of the bright red azaleas with a pale purple orchid, settling the latter in the position of honour, surrounded by a rainbow of sky blue violets.

They were a special strain, one that Jaehwan had worked on for a while, a blue so faint it appeared white at first glance, yet with too much colour to be white. Like a clear sky, Jaehwan had said.

There was something to be said for clear skies.

There was something to be said for—

The street had gone quiet. A prickling ran up the back of his neck, his tail curling nervously about his own waist. He buried his fingers in it, unable to stop himself, as he turned.

Yes, he thought through the blank sea of his mind, it was right that the street has gone silent.

He was tall and striking. His manner divulged his true nature even if the haughty look in his eyes and his stiff dress had not. There was a sense of assuredness—of an overabundance of self confidence.

Here, in the lower quarters, it was far too out of place.

Sanghyuk was growing—he was nearly as tall as Hongbin now, but this man seemed still to tower over him. His eyes were piercingly black to match his midnight hair but for a speck of white at the tip of one ear that Sanghyuk found his gaze drawn towards. His eyes were narrow and they bore through Sanghyuk’s very core.

His eyes scanned the streets—but those that met his eyes quickly looked away.

This man was undoubtedly an alpha and no one wanted to be the one who caught his attention.

"Can…" Sanghyuk paused, swallowed. Moistened his lips, suddenly cracked dry. "Can I help you with something, sir?"

His hands were trembling and he was a little proud of how little it showed in his voice. This misplaced pride nudged at him, nearly sending him into a fit of hysterical laughter.

The alpha said nothing—Sanghyuk hastily reached for a bunch of irises beside him and held them in front of his chest like a shield.

"I’m just looking," the man said. His voice was quiet and impassive. His eyes finally slipped off of Sanghyuk and across the flowers. Sanghyuk, in a moment of panic, realised that he should’ve misted the flowers because the violets really shone under the droplets of dew.

"Perhaps…something…a lady…?" This time, his voice wavered.

"No." He was cut off. Curtly. Sharply.

His eyes returned to the boy and the boy trembled in a mix of fear and of need. His gaze seemed to devour him and the boy's face betrayed his unsurety of the choice of fleeing, or to tremble and fall where he was.

"Sir…I…"

"You’re pretty."

"I…I’m…"

His heart dropped, he turned his head down, away, but something drew his gaze back, unable to let the alpha leave his vision. He was stammering, his words made little sense not even to himself. The proper words were stuck in his throat. He knew—it was instinct, it was blood. He'd never faced an alpha before but some innate sense told him that it was true—it was impossible for an omega to ever defy an alpha, to do anything but give in to an alpha's wishes. His ears were pressed back and every shred of him screamed to give in to his fear.

"Come with me," the man said. If his eyes were sharp, there was no such sharpness in his voice. Instead, it was soft, nearly lacking in inflection—any authority that might have been there was buried deep, layers within layers.

The boy, although afraid, took a step forward.

He would have taken a second step, had something—someone—not hurtled through the door, throwing himself between the man and the boy.

"Get away from him!"

The gaze broke and relief flooded into the boy’s body. With nothing left to hold him, he sank to the floor, the stones of the street rough beneath his hands.

The man’s eyes turned towards Jaehwan. They were steady but they held a faint tint of surprise—a slight crease between his brows, the near imperceptible tilt of his head, the slight press of his lips.

"You’re an omega," he said. It was the same quiet tone he’d used with Sanghyuk. A comment, a question. The question was not asked but Jaehwan was neither a child, nor sheltered from the bubble that the residents of the lower quarter have formed for themselves.

"So what!?" he snarled. "You stay away from him! Don’t touch him! There’s _nothing for you here_!"

He punctuated his words with blazing anger, his fists clenched at his side, ready to snap forward at a moment’s notice. His tail was twice its usual size, hair up, ears back, teeth bared.

The alpha had yet to move. His brows were deeply furrowed. One hand rested in a pocket and the other stayed loosely at his side, hovering, but not touching, the grip of his sword. Too late, perhaps, did Jaehwan see the sword.

"You’re supposed to be…" The alpha paused. His eyes slipped past Jaehwan to where Sanghyuk was still boneless on the street. "Docile."

"Yeah?" Jaehwan growled. He took a step forward, heedless of the blade. "Well fuck you and fuck being docile! Get out—just get out, or, or I’ll…"

There was a flash of real anger on the alpha’s face. Even from behind Jaehwan the boy could feel it. Stop, he wanted to tell him, don’t do this, it’s how it works, let’s just do what he wants—but fear tamped those words down, afraid of what would happen were Jaehwan to back down. But he was just as frightened of what would happen if he didn't.

He scrambled to his feet—but Jaehwan had flung his arm out. It stopped him in his tracks.

Those black eyes shifted off of Jaehwan and back onto Sanghyuk.

And then he was gone.

It was as if a string had been snapped—the older omega crumpled to the floor, his arms flung out to catch himself, but he hurtled out of consciousness before they could make contact. He fell instead on his side with a heavy thud. The boy grabbed him by the arm, clutched at him. He understood, but had not yet fully grasped, the momentousness of the situation. He glanced up and through the ring of people he could see the stiff white back disappear entirely. There were concerned murmurs, but more than that, there was a sense of wariness. If the boy had been less focused on Jaehwan, he perhaps would have noted his friend hovering at the back, his tail slipping between his legs in hesitation and something bordering fear. Something had happened here that did not happen and should not happen and that made people afraid.

The door was again flung open and this time it was Hongbin who rushed out. He took one look at Jaehwan on the ground and then the loose ring of people standing about the door of the flower shop. Whether it was something in the beta’s expression or the collective consciousness of any group of bystanders, they slowly dispersed, disappearing into their own doors, hurrying down the street, leaving it empty.

"He…He just…" Sanghyuk craned his head upwards, towards Hongbin. He was shaken, he was shaking, the faint trace of tears forming in his eyes.

Hongbin dropped down to the floor next to them and pulled Jaehwan upright. He looked down at Sanghyuk but the boy, when he tried to stand, fell. Hongbin was shaken as well but he’d been ordered to stay inside. By Jaehwan. He didn’t need to, he shouldn’t have—but. But.

The omega was pale, his face drained of colour. The muscles in his neck were tense, his teeth gritted, his tail twitching sporadically.

"Find Hakyeon," Hongbin said—but Sanghyuk didn't move. Hongbin cursed silently to himself. Of course. Sanghyuk had never met him.

"Get him inside," Hongbin said instead—and for the first, and hopefully only time, he forced a command into it. He didn't wait to see if the boy obeyed before he hurtled off down the street. The ties of his apron flapped behind him.

 

 

 

Sanghyuk would never be sure how he managed it, half carrying, half dragging Jaehwan’s still form to the door of the shop and then through it. The door shut behind him and he’d slumped against it. His mind was blank, his eyes reflecting his mind. They stared at the facets of light that spill through the shop, at the vibrant colours that didn't so much splash as much as explode. The steady tick of clockwork echoed through the shop muted by the hush of leaves. Jaehwan lay on the floor beside him and Sanghyuk knew that he ought to _do something_ , ought to help him, ought to reassure him, ought to strive and wake him or at least move him somewhere that wasn't the hard floor. Sanghyuk fell sideways so he was wedged between the counter and the wall, his head thudding against the wood.

Unbeknownst to him, history had come close to repeating itself.

It seemed an eternity later—an eternity that lasted only but a moment—that the door, for the third time that day, slammed open. It caught first against Sanghyuk—and slowed, cautious. But the man that came through the door was anything but cautious.

His tail bristled with worry, a deep red. His skin was tan compared to Sanghyuk's—evident when he knelt down next to him, his hand cupping the boy’s face. The boy, startled, jerked upright, his eyes wide, his ears flattening in surprise. There was a self assuredness in the way this newcomer carried himself. His clothing was plain but as he knelt back, assured that the boy at least was alright, a revolver showed itself as his vest swung open. The boy, however, was still too shaken to notice this.

Without waiting for the boy to reply, the newcomer pulled Jaehwan upright.

"Help me get him to a bed," he said. His tail twitched, the tip brushing against the floor.

Silently, mutely, the boy scrambled upright as well. He shook his head, as if to clear it.

"It’s this—" he began to say but the red haired man had already hoisted Jaehwan onto his back, winding his way through the store, his steps clearly familiar.

The door was hidden behind a large tapestry, embroidered with threads of brass, detailing the prickling climb of roses around and over a train of gears. It had been a gift from the very person who now pushed it aside to reveal the door. Sanghyuk hurried to open it—questions later, he told himself. He had so many questions.

Only when Jaehwan was safely on the bed, did the man—Hakyeon, Sanghyuk realised belatedly, this had to be Hakyeon—turn to Sanghyuk.

"What happened?" he asked. His voice was hushed as if to not disturb the one sleeping, if it could be called sleep. The thread of urgency was clear, in both tone and the way he held his body. He was tense, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Hongbin said, something about an alpha? Jaehwan defying him?"

That's right—"Where’s Hongbin?" Sanghyuk asked.

Hakyeon shook his head. "On his way," he said. "Behind me. He’s coming. But what in the world _happened_!?"

Sanghyuk recoiled with the sheer force of his words even if they carried no malice and only concern.

"He can’t," he said. He was shaking, even if he himself did not know it. "He _can’t_. We don’t…We…He shouldn’t….have been able to..."

"They wanted you," Hakyeon said, quickly catching what Sanghyuk was not able to say. It was soft, as he drew his thoughts back into himself.

The door to the store, again, opened; not with a thud but still with vigor as Hongbin shoved his way in. He pushed his way through the maze of plants to the room where he slept, where he could hear voices. His chest was still heaving, his skin hot and sticky, bangs plastered to his face with sweat. It had not been a hot day but it had been on the warm side of warm and Hongbin had not run slowly.

He stood outside the door for a moment, hesitant for a reason he himself could not place. He could hear Hakyeon and Sanghyuk inside. Slowly, he pushed aside the tapestry.

"But how?" Sanghyuk said—words that Hongbin arrived barely in time to catch.

"Because he practiced." Hongbin knew what Sanghyuk meant and his voice was grim as he said this. Still, he was winded and he leant against the doorframe, arms crossed. Hakyeon was seated on the bed, his hand reassuring against Jaehwan’s arm. Sanghyuk was curled up on the chair, tail beating incessantly against the arm. The beta, briefly, wanted to rush to Jaehwan’s side, but he knew from experience that it would do no good.

There were many things he knew and many things he did not know.

He knew, for example, that to Sanghyuk, what had just happened was unthinkable. He also knew that before meeting Jaehwan and Hakyeon, he too would’ve thought it unthinkable. And he knew that what Jaehwan had just done was both incredibly brave and unspeakably foolish.

But what he didn't know was why the alpha had simply left. He didn't know why he’d been there in the first place. And he didn't know, not like Hakyeon knew, what had driven Jaehwan to this point in the first place.

" _Practiced!?_ " By now, Sanghyuk had regained most of the colour in his face. His eyes focused on Hongbin in fierce disbelief. "How do you _practice_!?"

"Like you practice anything else," Hakyeon said slowly.

Sanghyuk’s eyes turned back towards Hakyeon. "But…an alpha…How could he…"

"Me," Hakyeon admitted. "He practiced with me."

The boy, at this point, pressed himself back, nearly toppling over the chair. He hadn’t realised that this man had been an alpha. Before today he’d never met one. He’d always assumed that they were all like the one from earlier, proud, stiff, imperial. Yet Hakyeon was assured and with a jolt, Sanghyuk wondered how he'd missed the aura that Hakyeon tried to—but couldn't—hide. But he was also…his presence seemed smaller, his stance milder, his being infinitely more human.

Hakyeon laughed dryly. He’d put down the boy’s easy manner with him to pure shock, assuming that Jaehwan or Hongbin had at least told him of him.

Sanghyuk was still staring at him.

"He wanted to," Hakyeon said, a slight shrug, a twist of a smile on his lips that held little humour. "But it goes against the very grain of our natures. It’s…extremely hard on the body."

His eyes swung to Jaehwan’s still form, his face tense in the visage of pain. It was worse than he had ever seen him, barring, perhaps, that very first time. The first time after which Hakyeon had very nearly put his foot down and said no, never again. But he hadn’t, he’d given in, because Jaehwan was incredibly stubborn when he needed it. As an omega, Hakyeon supposed, that was always.

"I don’t get it," Sanghyuk said. "Why would you even want to—"

"Because what happened today wasn't—"

"Hongbin."

The alpha’s voice was curt and Hongbin immediately quieted, a soft whimper slipping out as he curled back, tail sliding between his legs. Hakyeon’s expression smoothed in apology. He shook his head and gestured towards the door.

"He’ll be fine," he reassured Sanghyuk. He stood, pushing Sanghyuk towards the bed before slipping past Hongbin out the door. Hongbin, with a firm nod towards Sanghyuk, followed.

"…don’t know the details, but…" the boy heard, before their voices disappeared altogether. He sat down on the bed, still warm from Hakyeon. He gripped Jaehwan’s hand, cold, but the boy had no choice but to believe what Hakyeon had said.

They were standing far enough away for Sanghyuk to not overhear. Hakyeon ran his hands through the leaves, feeling the minute feathers of life brushed over each blade. Even though he lived in the Garden, forever lush and vibrant, the store had always felt different, alive in a way the Garden wasn't. It had been some time since he'd been here—years, in fact. He had been busy but his presence here was inapt regardless of the circumstances. Yet circumstances had dictated, in the past, his presence. It had been years too since he'd last seen Jaehwan. They’ve grown, and they have both learned discretion. They’d had discretion forced upon them.

But here he was again and he had no doubt that the very fabric of this community had been ripped in a way that would take a very long time to repair, the web of carefully and painstakingly crafted safety torn and shredded in a matter of minutes.

"I didn’t know what to do," Hongbin said. He was making excuses, making excuses to himself. His eyes squeezed shut as his fists clenched. He’d been hidden behind the door, too afraid even to peer out the window for long. He’d pressed himself against the wood, paralyzed, as he’d heard the exchange of words on the other side of the door.

"I didn’t know what he could do either," Hongbin admitted, almost as an afterthought. "I…I was scared."

"That’s the normal reaction," Hakyeon said wryly. He closed his eyes briefly as well. He knew, even without knowing the details, that today could’ve ended very differently.

"I was so scared, Hakyeon. I…"

"Scared of losing Sanghyuk," Hakyeon said. "Of losing Jaehwan."

His voice was soft but his eyes had hardened, the grey reminiscent of cold steel.

"This isn’t the first time," Hongbin said. An idea was forming—or perhaps, reforming—as the words left his mouth. "Hakyeon—I wasn’t there, not that time, but I know…you’ve told me, I know as much as anyone, what happened."

"It couldn’t be helped," Hakyeon said quietly. His lips twitched, pressed briefly into a line. The sound of the gears clicking against each other was a low undercurrent, a rhythm that was unchanging, that was unending. As it should be.

"I know! You were too young, and—" he shook his head. "But now, can’t you do something!?"

"We’ve talked about it," Hakyeon said. "But it wouldn’t be good for either of us. We’re friends, Hongbinnie. That’s all. I’m not going to claim him, and I’m not going to claim the little one either."

"Hakyeon…"

Hakyeon’s eyes fell shut. This conversation was one that won’t continue. Hongbin knew it and he looked away. He’d been forward. Too forward.

"Tell me again what happened," Hakyeon said. "Slowly, this time."

His eyes, when they opened, fixed themselves on Hongbin, piercing in a way that alpha’s eyes hadn’t been, but just as fierce.

Hongbin nodded. He wished he’d seen more, to be able to tell Hakyeon more.

"I was watering upstairs—it’s the dry season, you know, so we have to do it by hand. Jaehwan was downstairs, in the back, working on the books. The window…You know how the street’s always chatty—it wasn’t. All of a sudden it wasn’t. I didn’t notice right away but—Hakyeon, you could _smell_ his fear. I could smell it all the way here. I…the window…" Hongbin shook his head. He’d seen Sanghyuk cowering, had seen the alpha, and had bolted. He’d pounded down the stairs, slipping, too afraid to yell for Jaehwan—he doesn’t know why, maybe…

"I should’ve gone out there, Hakyeon, I know I should’ve. I mean, compared to Jaehwan…I don’t know, maybe I thought with the three of us…but Jaehwan got that look in his eyes. I thought he was going to—he pushed me aside and ordered— _ordered_ —me to stay inside. Ordered…That doesn’t…"

That didn’t make sense either. An omega ordering a beta around?

"Hongbin. Just tell me what happened. Out there."

Hongbin shook his head. He turned his head to look towards the door as if he could see through it and into the street.

"To be honest, I don’t really know. Jaehwan got between them—he was _tall_ , you knew he was an alpha right away, not like you—and the way he carried himself…"

"Describe him for me?"

A shiver passed through Hongbin’s body. The image of the alpha looming over them flashed through his mind. It wasn't one he was likely to forget soon. He didn't know how Jaehwan had stayed there like that, didn't know how Sanghyuk hadn’t given in immediately. But fear was a powerful motivator.

Hakyeon made an impatient sound in his throat.

"Tall," Hongbin said again. "Black—I mean, black eyes, black hair, black tail, everything. No, wait, bit of white on one ear. He…was handsome." Hongbin laughed bitterly at this. "Dressed in white—wait, there was some insignia, something fancy."

Hakyeon’s face, throughout his description, had slowly clouded over. Hongbin, still turned towards the door, saw none of this.

"What insignia?" Hakyeon asked, his voice soft.

"I think…" Hongbin frowned, pulling up the most accurate picture he could imagine. It wasn’t difficult. It seemed to have been seared into his mind. "Gears—three of them. Two daggers or swords, a chain between—Hakyeon? What’s wrong?"

Hongbin had turned, finally, and was greeted with Hakyeon’s stormy face. He recoiled, two steps back, knocking over a handful of pots. This was the first time he'd seen Hakyeon angry, truly angry, for Hakyeon rarely showed his anger. His jaw was set and his lips were curled into a snarl, his teeth just bared. At Hongbin’s voice, his expression forced itself into a facsimile of calm but nothing could hide the way his eyes were narrowed, the fury shallowly hidden within. There was an attempt at a smile but that soon slipped off.

"I have a call I need to make," Hakyeon said.

He pushed past a bewildered Hongbin without another word and Hongbin was far too stunned to call him back.

 

 

 

 

 

It was always lush in the Gardens. Lush and clean, particularly when one were to compare it to the lower quarters. It was not so stark when one moved between the Gardens and the central quarters, and even less so between the Gardens and the upper quarters, but once one crossed that boundary and ventured deeper besides, such differences were obvious. There was no constant smell of burnt oil, no layer of soot, no cloud of ash so persistent that one soon ceased to notice it, with time.

The paths were lined with small shrubs, meticulously maintained. Hakyeon caught sight of a worker quickly disappearing into the background as he stalked by, his ears flattening as Hakyeon passed. It was a beautiful place and Hakyeon loved it dearly; from the grounds of his own family’s manor where he'd spent the first brief years of his childhood roaming, to the paths that ran through the Gardens like spokes; he loved every bit of this serene sanctuary from the sharp walls to the peak of the tower. It was a beautiful place, and Hakyeon loved it dearly, but damned if he didn’t hate it at times. Hated the twisted normalcy, hated the easy superiority, hated the rules and customs that’d sprung up out of antiquated necessity and pure bullshit. Oh, Hakyeon knew how they justified it, knew the history, had studied it inside and out—

the door slammed open and Hakyeon stormed in, and before the alpha who’d tried to take Sanghyuk had time to open his mouth, Hakyeon’s fist had slammed into his face—Taekwoon reeled back.

"What the hell Hakyeon!?"

"That’s what I should be asking," Hakyeon snarled. He shoved the door shut behind him. "What the hell do you think you were doing?"

Taekwoon’s eyes narrowed, his brows creasing in anger. His uniform was draped over the back of the chair, now traded for a loose shirt. His hand dropped from his face where it had gone to unconsciously at Hakyeon's blow—there would be a healthy bruise there in a few hours, Hakyeon noticed with a small, vicious satisfaction.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to train, but clearly not," Taekwoon said, voice dangerously quiet.

"I’m asking you what the _hell_ were you thinking!?"

Taekwoon’s mouth twisted into a snarl, his tail bristling. "About what?" he asked.

"Flower shop?" Hakyeon said. "Does that jog your memory? I thought you were better than that."

"Flower—the omega?" Taekwoon’s expression smoothed somewhat although his body was still taut in anger. A veil of understanding seemed to dawn. "I didn’t even do anything."

"You were going to—otherwise he wouldn’t have acted the way he did!"

"He was pretty," Taekwoon said. His voice was almost petulant. He stepped back, crossed his arms. "I wasn’t going to hurt him, I just wanted him."

"You can’t just _do_ that," Hakyeon hissed. "You can’t just decide you want someone and _take_ them."

"But everyone does," Taekwoon said, and his voice had suddenly become very, very quiet. "Hakyeon, you’re the strange one."

"Oh _excuse me_ for wanting to treat people like people," Hakyeon said.

"He was an omega," Taekwoon said simply like that explained everything—and to Taekwoon, it did. Hakyeon knew that it did.

"That’s not the point—" Hakyeon growled in frustration. His fists clenched as he brought them down to his side as he turned and paced the room. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. "You didn’t see him after, Taekwoon. You can’t imagine what it’s like—do you even know what it took for Jaehwan to stand there? To get between you and that kid? You can’t imagine—Gods, even I can’t, but I’ve _seen_ what that’s done to him. If you weren’t my friend, you wouldn’t be standing here right now."

"So you know him," Taekwoon said. His ear twitched. "Does he belong to you?"

"Does he—" Hakyeon took a deep breath, calming—Taekwoon knew he’d never, was trying to get under his skin. Hakyeon’s eyes slanted at Taekwoon in anger. "He belongs to _himself_ , you idiot, how many times do I have to say this?"

"You’ve said it enough, but that doesn’t change anything," Taekwoon said flatly.

"Of course it doesn’t, because it’s true," Hakyeon said, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle, as he always did when it came to this. "And yes. Yes I do know him. And it’s lucky I do, it’s lucky I ran into Hongbin, if you’d done that to anyone else—Taekwoon, I expected better from you."

Taekwoon flinched like Hakyeon had hit him again but the heavy note of disappointment hit him harder than any physical blow. It was almost absurd because Taekwoon was tall and broad and he seemed to dwarf Hakyeon, even though Hakyeon himself was not small. He was brutal and lethal and fast and could probably, if he truly wanted to, destroy Hakyeon but Hakyeon knew Taekwoon better than that. He'd known Jaehwan for nearly two thirds of his life now and Taekwoon for nearly as long—and for those years, they’d spent nearly every waking moment together. He knew Taekwoon better than that. He’d expected better from Taekwoon.

Hakyeon sighed heavily and dropped into the chair at Taekwoon’s desk, his initial burst of anger spent, slowly slipping away. The desk was pushed up against the window and through it he could just see the bottom of the city, filtered between the branches of trees.

"Why did you even go there?" Hakyeon asked. He heard Taekwoon walk towards him and he stiffened but Taekwoon moved instead to the bed, pulling his lanky legs to his chest as he sat.

"I don’t know," Taekwoon said. "I…I felt like it."

"You never do," Hakyeon said. "You never leave."

"You always go," Taekwoon pointed out.

"Not there, not to the lower quarters."

"It’s all the same anyway." Taekwoon was eyeing him curiously now and Hakyeon was a little surprised at how quickly his anger had melted. It usually took much longer.

"It’s not," Hakyeon said, but he knew that to the residents of the Garden, there was nothing outside their white walls that was worth their attention. Not even the alphas whose mansions, some larger than the manors within the Garden, fringed the highest ring of the upper quarters. They were perhaps acceptable—there were always the few who made their way past the walls through marriage, or inducted into the Guards through pure merit. But worthy of attention? No. One needn’t even consider the mongrels, those of mixed alpha and beta—or gods forbid, in the rarest case, omega—parentage. They were simply the cogs buried beneath the surface, necessary, but unremarkable. One might have been greater than the other and each might have been indispensable or the entire, intricate construction would grind to a halt, but they were also easy to replace, nor did it matter the state they were in, so long as the teeth of each could catch in the teeth of the next. Necessary, but unworthy of notice. As for the Garden—the Garden was life, the Garden was that which dictated where the wheels turned, the Garden was that which the wheels turned. The Garden was the essence of the City. That, Hakyeon knew, was indisputable.

He'd scoured the texts—it had become mere lore in modern days, but the grain of truth grew bigger the further one travelled through the tunnels of history. The true origins were obscured but the heart, the great, turning key—that which the Garden had always been designed to protect—remained steadfast. Its grandeur had never dwindled, but its value, its importance; Hakyeon wondered who beyond the true center of the Garden, beyond the innermost circle, beyond the line which guarded it all, held tight by the Keys—he wondered if there was anyone who recalled even a shade of the truth. He'd broached it once with Jaehwan but they had both been so young and Hakyeon had yet to learn the nuances of their world and Jaehwan had been more concerned with how many meat buns they might manage to nick that afternoon. They simply regarded the key, the tower, the heart, as a steadfast part of their lives and the world. He doubted they even knew their own part within it—no, he knew that they did not know the part they played. The small, essential, crucial cogs.

The indispensable but replaceable. The fuel and consumable. But for all that they were pieces of a larger contraption, it didn’t change that they were each and every one of them _people_.

"How did you know?" Taekwoon asked suddenly.

Hakyeon was jerked out of his thoughts. "Know what?" he asked, turning to Taekwoon.

"Know it was me," Taekwoon said. The corner of his lips quirked as he smiled wryly. "You were pretty sure." There _was_ a bruise forming on the side of Taekwoon’s face and Hakyeon felt only a little guilty over it.

Hakyeon tapped his left shoulder. Had he been wearing his uniform, the same white coat tossed over the back of the chair, the same three gears that Hongbin had seen would have been sitting, linked with the same chain to the two blades they carried over their hearts. "How many people do you think have that?"

"Oh."

"Exactly," Hakyeon said. And of the seven that remained, him included, only one came even close to matching the description Hongbin had reported. From his expression, Taekwoon had realised that as well. "There’s a lesson for you—if you leave the Garden, leave your uniform behind."

"That’s all I ever wear," Taekwoon said.

"Because you never leave," Hakyeon said.

Taekwoon shrugged, picking at his sleeve. He wasn’t wearing it now but he was also safely inside his room. There was the sound of footsteps in the hall outside and his ears perked up to turn unconsciously towards it but he was otherwise still for long moments until something seemed to catch his attention and his brows furrowed in thought.

"What is it?" Hakyeon asked.

Taekwoon pursed his lips for a moment. "That one—how did he do that?"

"Jaehwan?" Hakyeon says, knowing full well that Taekwoon didn’t know his name. "Practice."

"That’s not possible," Taekwoon said bluntly, an unwitting echo of a sentiment voiced a bare hour ago.

"Sure it is—you saw it," Hakyeon said. "Anyway, if you do…just don’t go to the lower quarters again. Stay away from omegas."

"Why should I?"

"Because I said so, alright? As your captain, that’s an order."

Taekwoon bristled and there was the faintest hint of bared teeth but he didn't speak back and Hakyeon was going to take what he could get. A silence settled over them and Hakyeon basked for a moment in the familiarity of this room. It was lit overhead by the usual light infused crystals which ringed the room, encased in a translucent layer of quartz glass. They'd started to dim and Hakyeon wondered when was the last time Taekwoon had bothered to turn them off. For some reason Hakyeon had never managed to fathom, Taekwoon had the habit of leaving them on even as he slept.

"You’ve felt it, haven’t you?"

Hakyeon startled at Taekwoon’s voice, turning to face him with a frown. Taekwoon was looking at him, eyes intense and focused, for all that his words themselves had been soft.

"Felt what?" Hakyeon asked.

"It’s slowing down."

Hakyeon paused, his heart slowing, in beat with that of the City. He looked away from Taekwoon now, out of the window, towards the city. It was the same view that he saw from his own window, albeit a small distance to the left. The window faced outward and was three floors up—it gave them a strong vantage point.

"How do you know?" Hakyeon said. "You can’t be sure—"

"The prince." Taekwoon cut him off, quick in answer to a question that Hakyeon had yet to finish asking. His face was calm but the twitch of his jaw betrayed his anxiety. Hakyeon glanced at him, then again looked away. Mirroring Taekwoon, he pulled his knees to his chest, feet just resting on the edge of the chair.

"I overheard," Taekwoon added and there was a hint of urgency in it, more emphatic. Hakyeon had to _know_ , Taekwoon knew it, even if they weren’t to have known. Yet the older alpha seemed to be wavering, not meeting his eyes.

"I believe you," Hakyeon said. Immediately, there seemed to be a small slump of tension in Taekwoon’s posture. Hakyeon’s lips quirked a little in involuntary amusement. "Did you think I wouldn’t?"

It was Taekwoon’s turn to glance away, a near pout on his lips. It was so childish that Hakyeon had to laugh—the pout immediately disappeared, replaced by an irritated look.

"I believe you," Hakyeon repeated, fighting to keep the laughter off his face. His next thought immediately did it, his expression suddenly somber. His fingers tapped against his legs, almost unthinkingly. Because yes, he had felt it—but he’d put it down to a trick of his own mind. He didn’t want to consider the alternative. He bit at the inside of his cheek, staring at the wall of Taekwoon’s room as if it would hold some answers.

"But the question is," Hakyeon said softly, "what do we do about it?"

"What can we do about it?" Taekwoon asked.

Hakyeon laughed. "That’s the question, isn’t it?"

"I mean—"

"I know what you mean," Hakyeon said. He glanced at Taekwoon, whose brows were new furrowed deeper, whose legs were hugged up to his chest even tighter. "You think there’s nothing we can do. Or nothing that we should do?"

Taekwoon hesitated and then nodded, his ears twitching a little at the motion.

"You’re probably right," Hakyeon said. The admission had clearly been unexpected—Taekwoon’s ears twitched again and his eyes snapped to Hakyeon. Hakyeon sighed. "I just don’t like thinking there’s nothing."

"I know," Taekwoon said after several long moments.

"We don’t even know what it means, or what’ll happen," Hakyeon said. He closed his eyes, wracking his memory for anything that might help.

"Did you read anything about it?" Taekwoon asked. It was as if he’d read Hakyeon’s thoughts, as impossible as it were.

Another quick smile.

"I have a good memory, but I’m not a library," Hakyeon said.

"So you don’t know," Taekwoon said, blunt.

"Nothing’s stopping you from picking up a book," Hakyeon said, tone mild and loaded with irritation. "The library’s open to you too."

Taekwoon glowered at him.

Hakyeon sighed heavily, hopping lightly to his feet, only to throw himself onto the bed next to Taekwoon. "Keep him safe," he said quietly. He glanced at Taekwoon, who was looking at him quizzically. "The prince, I mean."

"Oh." Taekwoon worried at his lip for a brief second before he looked away. "You’re talking about the second part."

"What else would I be talking about?" Hakyeon said. "I don’t make a habit of stating the obvious, unlike some people."

Taekwoon looked like he was going to lunge at Hakyeon, but Hakyeon’s smile seemed to hold him in place and he settled for his tail bristling in irritation, teeth bared in a slight snarl.

"You think it’s related?" he asked.

"I don’t know," Hakyeon admitted. "But I can’t think of why else the prince would need to know. And besides—"

"Besides what?" Taekwoon prompted, when Hakyeon abruptly cut himself off.

"No, nothing," Hakyeon said. _Besides, it’s too much of a coincidence._ He knew Taekwoon—he _knew_ that Taekwoon ought to have been better than he’d been today. Taekwoon could be dense, short sighted, about as receptive to different ideas as most everyone in the Garden but he wasn’t cruel. Nor had he ever ventured into the City, beyond the nearest rings of the upper quarters, much like most everyone else. There were exceptions—Hakyeon, for one, and others drawn out by curiosity, and then those who knew their place and their superiority and weren’t afraid of flaunting and taking advantage it.

It was what Hakyeon had assumed but now he was wondering if there was more to the recent whisperings of several incidences as the one that had nearly occurred today. Maybe a bunch of young alphas, flaunting their strength, egged on by each other. Unknowingly, Hakyeon’s expression darkened at this thought. The worst sort of cowards, picking on those who they knew couldn’t fight back.

Such things happened. It wasn’t usual but nor did it ever go punished and so it wasn’t _un_ usual. But there'd been more lately and Hakyeon had felt the small ripplings of unease. But between Taekwoon’s words and Taekwoon’s actions...

"What are you thinking?"

Hakyeon blinked, looked beside him. "Hm? Just things."

Taekwoon gave him a flat look, unimpressed.

"You really don’t know why you went there?" Hakyeon asked. Taekwoon shook his head. "You just felt like it." A nod. "What sort of felt like it?"

A frown. "I just did?" Taekwoon’s words held more uncertainty than anything else, and that in itself was strange to them both.

Hakyeon breathed out a half laugh half sigh as he stood, hands pressing down on his knees. "Fair enough," he said. There _was_ a bruise on Taekwoon’s face, and Hakyeon was feeling a tiny bit guiltier. He offered Taekwoon a smile, and then a hand. "You were saying something about training?"

"That was _before_ you punched me in the face," Taekwoon said. It was part whine and part annoyance but he grabbed Hakyeon’s hand anyway and stood.

"You still deserved it," Hakyeon said. He gripped Taekwoon’s hand tight before letting go, a small squeeze. It drew a smile from Taekwoon, small and wry though it was. "Next time you want to go on a field trip, tell me. I know some good places to eat."


	2. Forest for the Trees, Garden for the Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which hongbin finally gets to stay with chansik, and hakyeon convinces jaehwan to move

The sun had long set and of the three moons only the white one had graced the world with its light, however brief it had been, before disappearing once again to join its brethren in darkness. It could have been said to be portentous had the day's events not already been so. Yet the sky was clear and the stars shone bright without the shadow of sun or moon. But the stars, many as they were, could not dispel the heavy darkness that had settled into every corner of the room. The door was open a bare crack and the faint scent of earthen life could be found drifting into the room.

Hongbin perched on the edge of the chair, tail curled about one leg, the end of it twitching rhythmically. He'd sent Sanghyuk to bed hours ago—the boy had protested but hadn't taken much persuasion to obey. The day's events had drained him, just as they had drained Jaehwan, even though the manner was far different between the two. He'd told Sanghyuk that he'd stay here, watch over Jaehwan while Sanghyuk slept—not that he'd had much of a choice, because this was his room.

Yet, despite Hongbin's words, his eyes had closed despite himself, the beta just as tired as his two friends, just as drained. And so, it was from this half-dazed sleep that Hongbin was sharply jerked from by Jaehwan's voice, soft and hoarse in the darkness.

"Is…?"

The sensation of falling, before Hongbin managed to right himself in this dark room. Jaehwan was struggling to sit—struggling and failing. Hongbin nearly kicked over the chair in his haste to reach Jaehwan, to get him to lie down, stay down.

"You're okay?" Hongbin asked. "You're…"

"Sanghyuk," Jaehwan said urgently. "Sanghyuk?"

"He's fine," Hongbin said. He shook his head as Jaehwan tried to sit up again. "He's fine, he's sleeping. Gods, you scared me, I thought…" Hongbin trailed off and shook his head again. Jaehwan's gentle tug of his hand made Hongbin realise that he'd been clutching at Jaehwan's arm, far too tightly, and he let go with a sheepish smile that went unseen.

"The alpha?" Jaehwan asked.

"Gone," Hongbin said. He hesitated, unsure of his next words. Despite the darkness, Hongbin could feel Jaehwan's eyes on him. He sighed, knowing that he would have to speak of this to Jaehwan sooner or later. "Hakyeon came by."

"What?" The word came out sharply, forcefully, and Hongbin shrank away a little. 

"I didn't know what to do," Hongbin said, explained. "And I had to tell _someone_ , and—"

"I'm not upset," Jaehwan said gently. He patted Hongbin's hand.

Jaehwan was older than him, Hongbin knew, but not by much—in this moment however, Hongbin felt very, very small and very, very young. Jaehwan lay silent for several minutes, perhaps in thought, or perhaps he'd drifted off to sleep again, but from the tension still in him, Hongbin suspected it was not so. 

"I do wish you hadn't needed to involve him," Jaehwan said, when he finally spoke. Hongbin pulled away, a little guiltily, despite Jaehwan's earlier reassurances that he had not been upset. Jaehwan seemed to catch his mood, and his lips twitched in amusement at Hongbin's worry.

"I didn't know what to do," Hongbin said again, as if doing so would shield him from the reality outside of this room. Jaehwan, this time, laughed—as short and weak as it was.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Jaehwan asked, after the coughing had subsided.

Hongbin gave him a truly unimpressed look. "You're in my bed," he said.

"Go to Chansik's place," Jaehwan said. "You're always complaining how you don't get to spend enough time with him."

"I told Sanghyuk I'd watch you," Hongbin admitted, swallowing whatever snappy reply he'd had for Jaehwan. Jaehwan's words were true, however. It had been some time since he had spent any length of time with his alpha. Chansik had Junghwan with him on a permanent basis, and so wouldn't be missing Hongbin over duly, but Hongbin was another story altogether. For Hongbin had been busy. The dry season. Although, Hongbin wondered, whether that held any significance at the moment.

"We'll close the shop, tomorrow," Hongbin said. Jaehwan nodded slowly, almost reluctant, but there was nothing else to be done. "Maybe we ought to...close for a while."

Jaehwan, however, said nothing at this. He seemed tired—in a normal way, an exhausted manner, not the unnatural way he'd seemed to have been drained of energy earlier.

"Did Hakyeon say anything?" Jaehwan asked.

Hongbin pressed his lips together, unsure of which pieces of their conversation he ought to relay to Jaehwan. He sifted through the words, feeling Jaehwan's eyes on him all the while. Finally, he settled on what he deemed the most important.

"I think," he said slowly, tongue flickering briefly against his lips, "that Hakyeon knew who it had been."

Jaehwan frowned, expression pained as it was at the motion. "I wouldn't know," Jaehwan said. "It's been so long since I've seen Hakyeon. I am sorry I missed him." His tone was rueful.

Hongbin laughed a little at that. "You looked like shit," he said, forcing a bit of cheery cheekiness into his voice. "Actually, you still look like shit."

Jaehwan glared at him but his body was too weak to do much more than that and Hongbin laughed again. It felt good to laugh. He knew as well as Jaehwan did that had the day's events played out any differently, there would be no laughter at this moment. There may not have been—Hongbin cut that thought off before it could fully form. It was too terrible a thought to be allowed to be given form. It was a strained laugh, yes, but it would have to be, after the day's events.

And yet, Sanghyuk was here, peacefully asleep upstairs. Jaehwan was here, drained, weak, exhausted, alive. And Hongbin was here, although he had played no part in that perilous drama, a fact that still gnawed inside of him, leaving guilt to fill the holes it left behind.

"Jaehwan," Hongbin said softly. The mood in the room shifted, grew solemn at the serious inflection in Hongbin's words. Jaehwan met Hongbin's eyes, steadily. "About the shop…"

"We'll close," Jaehwan said. "For a few days."

Something close to relief flooded Hongbin's body even though he had not noticed himself to be tense. Jaehwan, noticing this, cracked a small smile.

"Then I'll be out for a while," Hongbin said. He too, answered Jaehwan's smile with one of his own. "I deserve a vacation, don't I—but I'll check back, every day, don't worry, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

Jaehwan snorted, shaking his head. "I don't need a babysitter."

"I beg to differ," Hongbin said. Nonetheless, he patted Jaehwan on the hand as he stood, the bed creaking softly as his weight disappeared. He looked down at Jaehwan, seemingly so small and frail, swallowed by the blankets—he knew it was merely a trick of perception, that Jaehwan now was no less or more than Jaehwan of earlier this day, but it was difficult to separate him from the image from Jaehwan crumpled in the street with Sanghyuk beside him, ringed by their neighbours and overwhelmed by a sense of fear. He was still bleeding exhaustion and unconsciousness seemed to be tugging at all his corners, doing its best to pull Jaehwan from wakefulness. Hongbin smiled softly.

"Rest," Hongbin said. "Good night, Jaehwan."

"'Night," Jaehwan murmured. By the time the door had shut, sleep had once again claimed him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sun had nearly risen over the Shining City when Hongbin found himself in front of Chansik's apartment.

There was a strange hush over the city although this far from the lower quarters, there ought not to have been. Hongbin knew that what had happened the previous day would have had no bearings here, that there would be no echo in this place. Yet the pre-dawn morning lent itself to such an air. 

It had been a meandering path that he had taken; although his steps had carried him straight up the hill, past the invisible line that bordered the lower and central quarters, past the street that seemed to serve as some sort of no man's land, he had instead turned left instead of right, gone downhill instead of up, east instead of north. These were streets that were familiar to him—he had grown up in these streets, had spent his youth scampering down alleyways, chasing Wonsik in a carefree manner.

After the blood rain, he had spent his days running through the same streets in a very different manner, and being chased for very different reasons.

But that too, had been years ago.

Now, he stood in front of Chansik's apartment, one that was as familiar to him as his small room at the back of Jaehwan's shop. He raised his hand as if to knock, but lowered it instead to retrieve the key, and let himself in.

The place was quiet. While the sun was hesitating just below the horizon, the day had yet to truly begin. The bedroom was upstairs, but it was not there that Hongbin went. Instead, he went past the sitting room and into the kitchen, tucked at the very back. There was no window in the kitchen and Hongbin fumbled for the shutter of the lamp.

After hours of wandering through darkened streets, the pale blue glow was blinding and it took several long seconds before Hongbin could see through the white haze. He thought of searching out some sort of breakfast—abruptly aware that he had not eaten since the previous morning—but it was to the chair that he found himself moving towards.

And it was in the chair, well after the sun had risen, that Junghwan found him in.

"Do you want a blanket?" Junghwan asked.

Hongbin jerked awake out of sleep for the second time that night—that day. When he saw Junghwan, he couldn't help the small smile.

"You're not going to ask me when I got here?" he said.

Junghwan laughed and Hongbin nearly jumped at how raucous it was, before he laughed as well, although his own laugh was far more restrained. He didn't know Junghwan well, but he liked the other beta—he didn't mind sharing Chansik with Hongbin, and that spoke volumes to his personality. Hongbin didn't think that Junghwan had a single mean or jealous bone in his body, from the tip of his ears down to the end of his tail, which was currently wagging in what Hongbin guessed was excitement.

"But you're already here," Junghwan said. Sleep was clearly still tugging at him, and his words were punctuated by a huge yawn. He laughed at this as well, grinning at Hongbin.

The smile on Hongbin's face was by now entirely involuntary. He watched as Junghwan unshuttered the second lamp as well before raiding the cupboards, singing softly to himself. Junghwan was coloured a rich brown, hair, ears, and tail, and every part of him seemed soft and fluffy—it was a contrast to Chansik's dark, dark brown, and who was every bit as sleek as Junghwan was not.

"Ahhh, we need to buy food," Junghwan whined. Hongbin couldn't help but laugh again as Junghwan's face contorted expressively with exaggerated hunger. Nonetheless, half a loaf of bread was produced.

"It's from yesterday," Junghwan said apologetically as he put it down on the table. "Eggs? Tea?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Hongbin said. "Is..."

"Chansik! I know you're awake!" Junghwan yelled, straight up at the ceiling. Not a second had passed before quick footsteps pounded down the stairs.

"Is it Hongbin? It's Hongbin, right?" Chansik's voice barely preceded the rest of him before he skidded into the kitchen. His shirt was undone and thrown lazily over a pair of trousers and every bit of him suggested that he'd just tumbled out of bed. He resembled an overexcited puppy—Hongbin had done a lot of smiling since he'd woken up in this apartment.

"Of course it's me," Hongbin said. He scoffed. "Who else would it be?"

"Aren't you supposed to be doing something with flowers right now?" Chansik asked.

"Yeah..." Hongbin trailed off. He looked at Chansik and then looked away, but not fast enough to miss the flash of a frown on his alpha's face or the concerned twitch of his ear.

"Argh!" Hongbin did jump this time at Junghwan's frustration. "You're awake—you make tea, but don't make anything else before I get back—I'm going to get proper food!"

Junghwan pointed threateningly at Chansik, glaring in an entirely non threatening manner. He didn't wait for Chansik or Hongbin's answer before stomping out the door. Chansik's laughter followed him all the way down the hall.

The silence that descended once the front door had shut was nearly smothering.

Hongbin didn't know where to look and the moment where Chansik hovered, equally unsure, was agony to Hongbin. It was but a moment however, before Chansik pulled up the chair to sit next to Hongbin.

"You don't deserve him," Hongbin said. It was an attempt at a joke—not a very funny one, but Chansik still laughed a little.

"Nope," he said, agreeing happily. His tail was wagging and it smacked Hongbin on the arm several times before Hongbin shoved him away in mock irritation. Chansik grabbed Hongbin instead, pulling him closer. Hongbin made a show of pulling away but the truth was it was a comfort to have Chansik's arms wrapped around him, to have Chansik's head pillowed against his shoulder.

A quiet sigh slipped out of Hongbin even as the tension that had gathered throughout the hours finally seemed to begin to seep out of his body.

"Shall we go upstairs?" Chansik murmured. The words sparked wonderfully against Hongbin's skin.

"Yes," he said, although he needed no words to answer. "Yes, please."

 

 

 

Hongbin came awake in small stretches, warm and lax all over. Chansik was a solid presence by his side and there was the overwhelming air of _safe_ blanketed over him. It was a good feeling and it was easy to bask in.

It was almost too easy, cocooned in his alpha's presence, to forget about the world outside of it but it took mere minutes before reality crashed down into Hongbin's consciousness.

Chansik was awake—it was clear that he'd been awake for some time. When Hongbin stirred, uneasy, he turned and grinned at Hongbin, one that Hongbin weakly returned.

"Chansik," Hongbin said—a little slow, a little hesitant. "Have you...ever had an omega defy you?"

Chansik blinked, caught off guard, and a frown etched itself between his brows. "No? Why would they?"

Hongbin worried at his lip for a moment as he looked away from Chansik. He traced out familiar patterns on Chansik's ceiling with his eyes and sought out Chansik's arm beneath the covers, letting his fingers brush against his skin while his tail curled about Chansik's tail.

"Alright," he finally said. Silently, he took a deep breath, bracing himself. His eyes remained fixed on the ceiling. "I'll put it another way—if you wanted an omega, would they say no?"

This time, Chansik tensed, and Hongbin could feel his stare on him, even if he didn't turn to face it.

"No," Chansik said again, the single syllable drawn out and slow. "They can't. It's why we don't mix with them." A pause. "Servants are different." Hongbin nodded at this a little. After spending years splitting his time between the lower and central quarters, it was a stark difference—while Hongbin may be tolerated as a beta, he had no doubt that were he an alpha, he would've been. Well, not driven out against his will, if he had refused, but it was crass. It was...almost cruel.

Chansik's fingers found his and he laced their fingers together. "Besides," Chansik added, "they're...you know."

"Seriously?" Hongbin sat straight up, glaring at Chansik. "You too?"

Chansik laughed, sitting up as well and shoving at Hongbin. "You know I don't think that," he said, playful and teasing. "But—"and here, his voice grew solemn as did his eyes, a look that was not often found on Chansik's face. "You wouldn't be asking if something hadn't happened."

Hesitation wormed at Hongbin, caught at his tongue, but Chansik was looking at him, almost expectantly. The words were ready to spring forward but some part of Hongbin held them back. Yet he was here for a reason. He pressed his lips together and then nodded, softly, to himself and then he briefly outlined to Chansik the events from the previous day's morning.

Throughout his retelling, the frown on Chansik's face grew.

"Your shop?" Chansik asked. There was almost a note of disdain in his words. "He must not be very well bred if he was in your quarter."

"No," Hongbin said slowly. He too was frowning now. "I don't think that's it. It almost felt like he was.. _too_ well bred. Not like you—ouch, hey! You get what I mean, look, it's a compliment! I think you mongrels are—ow okay okay that tickles—"

Hongbin squirmed away from Chansik, the both of them laughing as Chansik tackled Hongbin back onto the bed, their impromptu tussle leading to Chansik pressing quick kisses against Hongbin's mouth, mixed with teasing bites against his skin, the fur of Chansik's ears rubbing against Hongbin's cheek. They pulled back after several moments, small smiles on their faces as Chansik sprawled across Hongbin's chest.

Their breathing evened, the air around them again grew solemn.

"One of those elites, then," Chansik said.

Hongbin nodded, thinking back to the man. It had been the uniform, the insignia—and Hakyeon had known him. Hongbin knew that Hakyeon lived in the Gardens which meant that the alpha which had nearly taken Sanghyuk must've been from the Gardens as well. The people who lived in the Gardens rarely ventured outside of it—something that was always muttered about, sneered at in private, but at the same time, an eternal source of envy. Not for Hongbin—he was quite alright being a beta, thank you very much. And he doubted that Chansik wanted anything more than he had but there would always be people who wanted power and privilege. Alphas, particularly—give them a morsel and they'd take the whole pie, while raring to take the entire store.

"That's strange," Chansik said. Hongbin nodded again. He knew what Chansik meant. "Why would he have gone all the way down there? There's omegas up in the Gardens, servants and, well."

"I don't know," Hongbin said truthfully. "But there's always been…"

"Assholes," Chansik filled in helpfully. "Real dickheads. I've never heard of one of _them_ coming this far down though."

Hongbin sighed. "And that's the thing."

"Do you think…" Chansik trailed off, frown deepening as he looked at Hongbin. "Would he go there again? That alpha?"

It was half a second's thought before Hongbin shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. "Hakyeon—I've told you about Hakyeon before—somehow, I think he...took care of it." Hongbin's mouth twisted into a wry smile at this. It was difficult to forget how Hakyeon's face had been contorted in anger, leaving no doubt that Hakyeon would do anything he could to stop the same alpha from visiting the shop again. Even had he not known who it had been—or had not suspected, but each time Hongbin replayed that scene in his mind he became more sure that Hakyeon had known exactly who it'd been—Hongbin rather thought that Hakyeon would have hunted them down and done...something. And they would've deserved it. Deserved it for hurting Jaehwan like that.

"Hongbin."

"Mm?"

"You're getting a scary look on your face," Chansik said. He prodded at Hongbin's cheek and Hongbin immediately scowled, snapping at Chansik's finger.

"Better," Chansik said. He smiled and ruffled Hongbin's hair, rather infuriatingly, which Hongbin knew was the point. Hongbin was going to be the bigger person—he didn't retaliate, just settled with glaring at Chansik and settling firmly back against the pillows.

"Say, when do you think Junghwan'll be back?" Hongbin asked. With the tension having seeped out of his body, his hunger had truly taken over.

"Why? You want him to join us?" Chansik asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I want _food_ ," Hongbin said, kicking out at Chansik. Chansik laughed, rolling on top of Hongbin, his lips curling up in a smirk.

"So you're _hungry_?" Chansik said—Hongbin sighed, closed his eyes, and prayed for patience.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hongbin had been to visit every day. He'd also restocked their kitchen, brought some fruit. He'd even offered to cook but Jaehwan had stringently forbade it—he was not an invalid, and neither was Sanghyuk.

It was in the kitchen that Jaehwan now sat, leaning back in a large arm chair that Hongbin had brought with him when he'd first moved in. There was a story behind it, Jaehwan assumed, but he'd never gotten it out of Hongbin. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting Sanghyuk in a pool of brightness. The younger omega was paging through a book, his tail beating restlessly against the side of the chair as he hunched over the kitchen table.

Jaehwan watched him fondly, a smile curling up knowingly on his face. He'd woken up that first morning and had seemed entirely fine with his usual cheerful teasing and sheer brattiness that Sanghyuk liked to sometimes push to the limits. But there were times when Sanghyuk would suddenly look towards the window, his ears flattening, or the moment of hesitation that would freeze the boy to the spot just before he opened the door to go out. Sanghyuk ought to be across the street, bothering the friends he had nearby, but instead he was here in the kitchen, keeping Jaehwan company.

It wasn't that Jaehwan was afraid of leaving—not entirely. But it would also be untruthful to say that he had entirely recovered. He felt as if he were recovering from a long flu, his body weak, his breath quick to grow short. It must've been because he was growing old—it had never taken him this long to return to his normal self when he'd been younger.

But older he was, and vindictively thankful that he had pestered Hakyeon into helping him all those years ago. It couldn't be done, Hakyeon had said, but Jaehwan had been stubborn—obnoxiously so, Hakyeon said—and he'd agreed, however reluctantly it had been given. 

They had been young, then. Very young. Only now, thinking back, did Jaehwan realise just how young they had been. He'd been twelve, and Hakyeon fourteen. Like all children, they had felt that they were as mature as any adult. And like all children, they had been far less afraid of the world than they ought to have been. Unafraid, yet terrified, but most importantly, angry.

Sanghyuk had been watering the flowers. He did it without complaint—without real complaint. He whined and teased but still, he hauled up the buckets of water that would keep the plants alive.

There was a knock at the door.

Both omegas jumped, and then shared a look.

"Jaehwan, it's me," their visitor called, and it was Hakyeon's voice. Immediately, they relaxed.

"I'll get it," Sanghyuk said. He leapt to his feet before Jaehwan could act, and Jaehwan waved him along as if shooing away a child. Sanghyuk made a face at him but scampered off to let Hakyeon in.

Jaehwan felt like his heart would burst through his throat.

Hakyeon seemed taller—but no he couldn't have been. His face was slimmer, sharper. Older. When he smiled, it was the same smile. His deep auburn hair was swept aside from his handsome face, now shed of all baby fat, and his eyes seemed to glow with life. He was dressed in his usual manner, simple and plain, although his clothes was finely tailored and evident in its quality. When he saw Jaehwan, he ran forward, sweeping him into a hug.

"Ow I can't breathe!" Jaehwan protested—but he too clung to Hakyeon, arms wrapped tight about him.

"I don't care," Hakyeon murmured, only hugging him tighter.

It was long seconds, perhaps even a minute, before the two friends pulled away. Hakyeon's eyes were damp and Jaehwan, although he would always deny it, was blinking back the burning prickling of tears. 

How many years had it been since they had last seen each other, both awake and well? 

Hakyeon rubbed at his eyes, still smiling at Jaehwan. There was something in that smile that Jaehwan could read, plain as day— _I could've lost you_ , it said. He could read it because it was not the first time he had seen that smile.

"Are you sure you should be here?" Jaehwan asked. His voice was rougher than it ought to have been—they both overlooked it.

"Of course!" Hakyeon said, familiarly bold, but then it melted away into something less easy. "They're wary—your neighbours."

Jaehwan's laugh was hollow. "Do you think this is my fault?" he said. His eyes flickered over to Sanghyuk, still standing by the doorway, and he abruptly grew silent.

Sanghyuk had trailed Hakyeon in—it was clear that Hakyeon knew this shop, this house, and he hadn't waited for Sanghyuk to stride forward as soon as Sanghyuk had said that Jaehwan was in the kitchen. There had been a half second when Sanghyuk had caught up with Hakyeon, at the threshold to the kitchen, but then Hakyeon had thrown himself forward to catch Jaehwan in an embrace and Sanghyuk found himself feeling horribly adrift.

There was a lifetime of shared memories here he was not privy to. A good part of him told him to leave, that this was a reunion that he had no part of. Another part stayed out of curiosity. Were he to be very honest with himself and very careful to sort through his thoughts, he would have found that there was a third part and that was one of jealousy. 

But humans were rarely so honest, nor willing to look so deep, and so it was a part of himself that Sanghyuk missed.

He was abruptly aware of Jaehwan's eyes on him.

"It's not!" Sanghyuk said, the words automatic even before he was consciously aware of them. "If anything, it's—"

"Stop it," Hakyeon said. The initial exuberance was gone, and all that was left was a weariness. His tone was not unduly harsh, however, and he offered Sanghyuk a small smile.

"Right. Why I'm here." Hakyeon nodded a little to himself, and then pulled up a chair. Sanghyuk returned to his seat as well, watching Jaehwan and Hakyeon with curiosity in turn. 

"Why you're here?" Sanghyuk asked.

"Mmhmm. I…" Hakyeon trailed off, frowning. He looked towards Jaehwan and it was clear that he was struggling to put his words in order, to say them in a way that Jaehwan would not reject them, at least not immediately. "Jaehwan, I know that this place is everything to you, but I think… Well, I'd feel better if... "

"No," Jaehwan said. He too, frowned, although his frown was a different one. "We agreed—I don't care if it's safer, I'm not going to let you claim me."

Hakyeon's eyes grew wide and then he chuckled softly and shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant to say. You know I have an apartment in the central quarters—I know you'll be more exposed to alphas, but…"

"You're asking us to move in," Jaehwan said, quickly grasping the thread of Hakyeon's words. "Do you think...do you think he'll come back?"

Hakyeon shook his head vehemently. "He won't," Hakyeon said. There was a low growl in his voice now and his ears were pricked up, almost aggressively. "I'm sure of it."

"Then why?" Jaehwan asked. "Omegas don't live anywhere but in the lower quarters, not unless they're bonded. It's not safer."

Something passed over Hakyeon's face at Jaehwan's words that had Jaehwan growing quiet.

"It's not just that," Hakyeon said. He sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. This was not a decision that he had come to lightly either. He knew Jaehwan's pride—he refused to be patronised. But there was also the risk of having them live in the central quarters, because Jaehwan was right. The only omegas who lived in the central quarters were those who were bonded and Jaehwan adamantly refused. Nor was it right and nor did Hakyeon wish to. It may have ensured Jaehwan's safety from aggressive alphas—at least, those not spoiling for a fight—but Hakyeon would not consent to essentially _owning_ Jaehwan, just as Jaehwan himself bristled at the idea, friends as they were. There was something far too distasteful about it.

"Alright," Jaehwan said.

"I've heard—what? What did you say?" 

"Alright," Jaehwan said again—this time it was a little softer, a little less conviction. He'd met Hakyeon's eyes the first time but now they slid away. They settled briefly on Sanghyuk, on the flash of confusion there before it could be hidden away, and then settled instead on the table. 

He did glance up at Hakyeon then. "You heard, what?" he prompted. Hakyeon was looking at him, a little stunned. There would be silence and Jaehwan did not want silence.

Hakyeon's mouth shut abruptly, himself having not realised it had been open. Again, a brisk nod. A frown. A moment of hesitation.

"What is it?" Jaehwan asked. Impatient.

"You weren't the only one. Sanghyuk wasn't the only one," Hakyeon amended. He took what seemed like a deep breath, followed by a short sigh. A look passed between them, a slight grimace, and Jaehwan knew what Hakyeon meant.

"There's always alphas like that," Jaehwan said. He squinted at Hakyeon.

"Yes," Hakyeon said. "I know. From the central quarters. The upper quarters. Not…"

"The Gardens." It was Sanghyuk who said this. The two other men both turned to look at him as one—Sanghyuk blinked, his hands raised a little in a conciliatory gesture although there was no hostility or anger in either of their expressions.

"Yes," Hakyeon murmured, still watching Sanghyuk. "The Gardens."

"Your kind," Jaehwan said. He too was watching Sanghyuk although the words were for Hakyeon. It seemed to take effort for Jaehwan to look back towards Hakyeon and Sanghyuk was glad for it.

It had been a strange look that Jaehwan had given him. One that Sanghyuk had not seen before. But there had been much that had happened these past few days that Sanghyuk had not seen before. There was much to Jaehwan that Sanghyuk did not know.

Hakyeon was caught by surprise by Jaehwan's words—it was evident in the way his gaze jerked back to Jaehwan, only to be met by his steady stare. His lips parted in a slight smile and he leaned back against the chair, although the quick twitch of his ears gave away his unease.

"I suppose so," he said. It was a musing tone, a thoughtful one. It ought to have been defensive but Jaehwan could find no defensiveness in it.

"And that's what makes it different?" Jaehwan asked.

A beat and then Hakyeon nodded. "It's also…" He paused here. Looked at Jaehwan. Looked at Sanghyuk. When he looked back at Jaehwan, it was with apprehension, with unsurety, with apology.

"Spit it out," Jaehwan grumbled. 

"Daewon," Hakyeon said suddenly.

The colour drained from Jaehwan's face, his ears flattening, his tail bristling. Hakyeon watched him, watched these changes, and it was a deep, sharp pain that lodged itself in his chest. 

"There's been a few like...like what happened to Daewon," Hakyeon said. His voice was incredibly soft now. Afraid, almost. 

Jaehwan was still. Sanghyuk watched him, unable to discern what Hakyeon meant and in some sense the alpha still unnerved Sanghyuk. So he watched Jaehwan instead, took in his stillness, his paleness. There was a slight tremor, a tremble as he grasped the edge of the chair, knuckles white.

Sanghyuk thought it might be fear.

Hakyeon knew it to be anger.

"Please," Hakyeon said. "Do it for me. I couldn't forgive myself if…" He swallowed and his glance flickered ever so quickly towards Sanghyuk, and although Sanghyuk did not know what 'Daewon' signified, he knew it must be a terrible thing and a chill ran through his blood that it might have been his fate had Jaehwan not intervened.

"I already said, didn't I?" Jaehwan said—again Sanghyuk felt Jaehwan's gaze fall on him although this time Sanghyuk did not meet it. "Just for a while."

"Just for a while," Hakyeon agreed. "I...I can't guarantee that it'll be safer, but I think it will be. And this way, I'll be able to check up on you—oh Jaehwan, _I've missed you_."

Were it any other day Jaehwan may have laughed it off, teased Hakyeon over it, but Hakyeon's words had opened a shutter that Jaehwan had thought forever sealed. He looked at Hakyeon, really looked and there was no smile or laughter that he could summon.

"And I, you," Jaehwan finally said, long seconds later. The words seemed strange from his mouth and perhaps that was what had Hakyeon leaning out of his chair, embracing Jaehwan once again. 

"You'll do it, then?" Hakyeon asked. "Move?"

Jaehwan nodded as best as he could nod with his face pressed against Hakyeon's chest. Hakyeon let him go, stepped back, and again his eyes were damp with tears, although this time for a very different reason.

"When?" Jaehwan asked.

Hakyeon looked about him and then behind him, towards the store where the plants and flowers were vibrant and resplendent. 

"How soon can you leave?" Hakyeon asked.

Jaehwan grinned, sharp. "Depends. How many flowers can your apartment hold?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my new year resolution was to update at least every two weeks, but it seems like i'll have obligations for the next two months /o\


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hongbin takes sanghyuk to visit wonsik, taekwoon tries to apologise, and there's a cake.

Taekwoon stretched out the full length of his body, arms above his head, arching his back, tail pulled taut before he shook loose his muscles, and then promptly clutched at the covers again. Beside him, Hakyeon was stirring, his ears twitching as he slowly awoke. A yawn slipped out of Taekwoon, and he blinked it back sleepily.

"Wake up," he said. He prodded Hakyeon's shoulder. "I'm hungry."

Hakyeon's eyes cracked open, before he obliged, sitting up. His hair was mussed, and his expression was bleary.

"You're not up," Hakyeon said, accusatory.

Taekwoon shrugged, nodded, acknowledging that yes, he was still buried in the blankets.

"Waiting for you," Taekwoon said.

"You didn't need to," Hakyeon said. He got off of Taekwoon's bed, scooping his clothes off the chair he'd left it on last night. He yawned, rubbing at his eyes, and this made Taekwoon yawn again, drawing a small laugh from Hakyeon.

"I slept here again last night?" Hakyeon asked.

"Yes," Taekwoon said, rather unnecessarily and very flatly. He watched Hakyeon get dressed, before he finally climbed out from under the covers and dressed quickly as well. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping that it didn't look too messy, before walking over to Hakyeon and teasing out a few of the more unruly strands. Hakyeon hummed, letting Taekwoon smooth his hair down, a small smile of fond amusement on his face, as always.

"Shall we go?" Hakyeon asked.

Taekwoon nodded eagerly, grabbing his uniform jacket and doing up the fasteners as Hakyeon did the same.

Hakyeon very pointedly switched off the quartz lamps and then waited as Taekwoon locked the door behind him, still blinking back sleep. Judging from how comparatively awake Taekwoon was, he must've woken quite some time ago. He'd forgone the sword this morning although Hakyeon had caught sight of his gun inside his jacket and the short knives at his waist. 'Handsome', Hongbin had described him as and yes, Taekwoon was, if you were into lizards, Hakyeon supposed. He looked more cute than handsome this morning, his bangs falling over his eyes, his posture loose and relaxed. At times like these, Hakyeon still thought of patting Taekwoon on the head like he'd done when they were younger and Hakyeon had lorded his few months of elder privilege over the younger boy.

Neither of them were children anymore though and they strode down the halls of the palace with sure steps while the actual children they passed abruptly stiffened as they passed. Hakyeon offered them small smiles but as usual it only served to hasten their steps, avoiding the two who were not only full-fledged guards, but also Keys to the Third Prince. They probably did form a very imposing image, Hakyeon mused.

The kitchen they went to was down by the barracks, closer to where the ordinary guards lived. It had annoyed Taekwoon to no end when they'd been younger, having finally grown old and skilled enough to take up residence near the Third Prince and moving out of the training barracks. It'd meant that he couldn't sneak off to the kitchens at any spare moment. 

For once, Hakyeon walked alongside Taekwoon in silence, thoughts still heavy in his mind. Jaehwan and Sanghyuk had settled in well in his apartments down in the central quarters although the place now resembled a small flower shop in itself. He'd dropped by quite a few times, sometimes taking Taekwoon with him although never to the apartment itself. It set Hakyeon's mind at ease because now that Taekwoon had confirmed it, the insistent draw that Hakyeon felt towards _down_ , towards the earth—it was present, too present, and Hakyeon didn't like to think about what it meant. Which didn't mean that he didn't think of it at all.

Him and Taekwoon, they were two of what had once been twelve Keys who were sworn to serve, guard, and protect both the Third Prince and the Shining City. Only eight of them remained; two having broken their vows and another two slain during the war, young as they had been. They ought not to have been beyond the walls, fighting, yet so many of them had insisted—to protect the City was to protect the Prince. Hakyeon, as Captain, remained behind. Taekwoon had stayed with him. Of the eight that had ridden out, only six had returned.

And now, the premonition that soon, all the Keys in the palace would be called upon to fulfill their duties, all their duties. Because the beat of the city was slowing down.

"I think I'll head to the library after this," Hakyeon said. Taekwoon glanced at him. "Care to join?"

__Taekwoon shook his head. "I want to train," he said. "I feel too restless to sit."_ _

__They were nearing the barracks now, and it was noisier, far noisier. Hakyeon liked it, liked how much life was here, compared to the quiet halls of the palace. Taekwoon was not as fond, and he had no inclination to linger as they moved to the kitchens._ _

__There was no one that Hakyeon wanted to speak to, so he simply took up a seat at an out of the way table, as Taekwoon hastened off to fetch himself a cup of khav. One of the servants noting Hakyeon immediately hurried over with a platter of bread and meat, as well as a crock of the sweet fruit jam that Taekwoon was fond of._ _

__"My thanks," Hakyeon said, smiling at her. The girl flushed and then quickly went back to where she'd been washing dishes._ _

She was an omega as were most, if not of all, of the servants—at least the ones that stayed out of the way. Would whatever was happening affect them, up here in the Gardens?

It didn't take long for Taekwoon to return and he let out a pleased sound when he saw the food. He'd brought an extra cup for Hakyeon and Hakyeon gratefully took it, the cup hot in his hand. The drink was bitter but lifted some of the fog of sleep. Taekwoon had drowned his with cream and sugar as he was wont to do although he'd left Hakyeon's as it was, having forgotten that Hakyeon preferred it sweet—as he was wont to do.

Talking when Taekwoon was eating was an impossible task, with Taekwoon's mouth endlessly occupied with food. Hakyeon finished eating far sooner and he tapped his fingers against the table as his eyes flit about the kitchens. They were nowhere near as grand as the one in the palace proper but it was nice to not have to worry about propriety as they ate and while the food may not have been quite as fancy, it was still good. When it came to Taekwoon, though, all food was good.

"Hakyeon."

It took Hakyeon a good second before he turned to Taekwoon, a light frown on his face.

__"What is it?"_ _

__"You don't like the idea of claiming omegas, but both parties have to agree," Taekwoon said. Hakyeon's brows furrowed, the words unexpected. Taekwoon looked to the side, to where Hakyeon had been gazing, landing on a small cluster of bonded omegas, chatting among themselves and with some of the servants._ _

__"Maybe we shouldn't speak of it here," Hakyeon murmured softly. His eyes lingered on the collars each of the bonded omegas wore, a sign that they were spoken for, and so would not be touched by any alpha beyond their own, even if they were to come into heat. A sign of ownership and a strange form of protection._ _

__Taekwoon looked at Hakyeon for a few seconds before he nodded, pushing back his chair. The two of them left the building entirely, towards the wider grounds of the palace. Lush, grass underfoot, trees scattered about—there was no place more pleasant._ _

__"Why were you thinking about this?" Hakyeon said, once they were assuredly alone._ _

__Taekwoon shook his head and then shrugged. "You were looking at them," he said, and then paused, tongue flickering out over his lips as he gathered his next words. "You think that it's not fair because omegas can't refuse us, but it's the way things are. Anyone can take an unbonded omega, especially if the omega goes into heat. And if an omega goes into heat and they aren't bonded to an alpha, it makes them more vulnerable. Isn't it good for the omega too, to be claimed? That's why both parties have to agree, and many of them do. What happens when that happens to your friend?"_ _

__It was the longest that Hakyeon had heard Taekwoon speak at once in a while, the entire thing delivered in the same soft tone that betrayed how much Taekwoon had mused over those words. Hakyeon took Taekwoon in, watching him closely, knowing that Taekwoon was waiting for an answer._ _

__"I don't think...I don't think that's ever happened, to Jaehwan," Hakyeon said, flushing a little, unable to bring himself to say the words 'been in heat' and 'Jaehwan' in the same sentence. It had puzzled him as well but Hakyeon hadn't put too much thought into it._ _

__"And not all omegas," Hakyeon said softly. "Yes, some are happy and wish for it, especially to an alpha from the Gardens, but not everyone is like that, Taekwoon. And you know as well as I do that an alpha could coerce that agreement, if they truly wanted them—although in that case, it's far more likely they'd simply…" Hakyeon trailed off, unable to put words to what was the reality of an omega who'd caught an alpha's eye, but did not wanted to be claimed. Far better to agree to the bond, in that case._ _

__And then there were the children of such a bond. Most were born omegas and almost without exception they would eventually become servants of some sort. Many of the beta children as well, although some did move down to the central quarters preferring to shape lives of their own. It was little wonder that often, bonds and claims were formed in ways that children would not result._ _

__Taekwoon had fallen silent after Hakyeon's words. What Hakyeon had said was true and Taekwoon knew it and had at least _some_ sense of the wrongness of the situation, even if he pretended he didn't._ _

__"But Taekwoon, you do know that if you ever did meet an omega who wanted you as much as you wanted them—I'd be happy for you, right?" Hakyeon said. Taekwoon looked sharply at him, his mouth parted slightly in what Hakyeon surmised was surprise. Suddenly, Hakyeon grinned. "Oh! Could it be that some kitchen boy or girl has caught your eye?" Hakyeon teased._ _

__Taekwoon flushed, cheeks turning pink as he struck out at Hakyeon. Hakyeon laughed as he ducked, but didn't quite manage to avoid Taekwoon's kick at his ankle._ _

__"Stop it," Taekwoon whined._ _

__"How cute," Hakyeon cooed—and then took off running before Taekwoon could make good on his threat of murdering him right there and then._ _

____

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh my god Jaehwan, it's _fine_."

Sanghyuk rolled his eyes as Jaehwan flitted from one pot to another, checking that the 'few' cuts they'd brought with them from the store were alive and healthy, as if it wasn't for the fourth time this morning. They'd filled Hakyeon's apartment with flowers, every room that had a window. There were several of each of the normal varieties, and 'just a few more' of Jaehwan's special strains.

At least Jaehwan was completely back to normal.

They'd been here for over two weeks now and Sanghyuk was bored out of his mind. The idea of 'vacation' had worn thin within a few days, especially when Sungjae had been busy when Sanghyuk had gone to seek him out—but more than that it'd been unnerving how cold Sungjae's parents had been towards Sanghyuk. Hongbin had come every day for the first few days but he was clearly happy hanging out with his alpha and Sanghyuk would never dream of taking Hongbin from that. Sanghyuk had never thought that he'd _want_ to be working, but there were plenty of things that Sanghyuk had never thought about.

Like how Jaehwan could get even more insufferable than he already was.

There'd been a huge argument the previous week when Hakyeon had dropped by with his arms full of food. It'd mostly been Jaehwan yelling about being patronised and Hakyeon pointing out the obvious that _they didn't have the shop open_ followed by Jaehwan saying that he was going to go back soon enough and they had enough money to survive, thank you very much. At that point, Sanghyuk had been sent outside on an errand to pick up something Hakyeon had purportedly forgotten to buy, but he could tell when he was being dismissed like a child and he certainly had been.

By the time Sanghyuk had returned, the two of them were calmly sitting at the table, sipping tea as they played cards. Jaehwan hadn't said a word about going back to the shop since then and Sanghyuk hadn't managed to tease anything from either of them about what they'd talked about.

There was a knock on the door and Sanghyuk bounded to the front to answer it, grinning and tail wagging eagerly when it was Hongbin.

"Good, you're here, Jaehwan has been _so annoying_ ," Sanghyuk said in a very loud mock whisper. "You can help me distract him while I escape."

"What was that?" Jaehwan asked, voice pitched high as he stomped towards them. "Escape?"

"He's acting like my _mom_ ," Sanghyuk said to Hongbin in false horror. Hongbin laughed and ruffled Sanghyuk's hair even though Sanghyuk was as tall as he was.

"I'm gone for a few days and you've become his mom?" Hongbin asked Jaehwan, quirking an eyebrow as he let himself in.

"I just never get the chance to take care of him any more," Jaehwan huffed. "And now I have plenty of time."

"Too much time," Sanghyuk grumbled. "I don't even need taking care of."

Hongbin trailed them in, him and Sanghyuk sharing a Look as they passed by the kitchen which was barely accessible from how many flowers there were. It was fine—the only thing Sanghyuk could cook was tea, and that wasn't even cooking. Jaehwan's mess, Jaehwan could deal with it.

"I brought a few things over from Chansik's," Hongbin said, as they went into the sitting room. He dropped the heavy wicker basket he'd been carrying onto the floor, nodding at Sanghyuk to open it. "Books, mostly. They're rather fun to read."

"That doesn't sound ominous at all," Sanghyuk said as he fished out several books—the first of which was titled 'The Vampire's Lover'. Hongbin was holding in silent laughter as Sanghyuk flipped through the thin books. "'Moonlight Wolves', 'The Trapper King'— _are they having sex!?_ " The last was as Sanghyuk flipped open 'The Outcast' and Hongbin finally burst out in laughter, clutching his stomach.

"They're...rather interesting!" Hongbin cackled. Jaehwan snatched them out of Sanghyuk's hands, eyes comically wide.

"This is not wholesome literature!" Jaehwan protested—all of them knew that Jaehwan did not give a damn about being wholesome and this only sent Sanghyuk joining Hongbin in a burst of giggles. 

"They belong to Chansik?" Sanghyuk asked, when he'd finally managed to stop laughing long enough to catch his breath.

"Sort of," Hongbin said. "We found them in an old cabinet that the previous owners had left behind."

"That's what he told you," Jaehwan said.

Hongbin laughed, shrugging. "There's also some other stuff in there," he said, "but actually I'm here to see if Sanghyuk wants to go pay a visit to Wonsik with me."

"Wonsik?" Sanghyuk asked. "As in, the guy who put the store together?"

Jaehwan nodded. "Our Wonsik's really smart," he said proudly.

"I think you'd like his workshop," Hongbin said.

"Just me? Not Jaehwan?" Sanghyuk frowned.

Jaehwan waved a hand, dismissing Sanghyuk's worries. "It'll be too crowded," Jaehwan said. "Go on."

Sanghyuk squinted at him but didn't push him, the excitement of going _somewhere_ outweighing his worries. It fluttered in his chest, especially as he trailed Hongbin out the door. Sanghyuk took a deep breath of air, stretching his arms over his head as he blinked into the bright afternoon sun. 

"Wow, has Jaehwan really been keeping you prisoner?" Hongbin teased as they began to walk.

Sanghyuk made a face, dropping his arms back to his side. "There's just nowhere to go," Sanghyuk said. "Jaehwan doesn't like it when I go back to the shop, Sungjae...well." He paused, the twitch of his ear giving away his discomfort, but Hongbin didn't say anything. "And there's only so many times I can go get groceries."

"You can come visit," Hongbin said. He'd tucked his hands into his pockets and looked fondly at Sanghyuk. "I think you and Chansik would get along."

"But…" Sanghyuk swallowed. "He's…"

He licked at his lips, glancing at Hongbin, and then looking down at the ground, his tail unconsciously brushing against his leg. 

"An alpha?" Hongbin said gently. It took a long moment, before Sanghyuk nodded. Hongbin's lips tightened and he held himself back from gently rubbing Sanghyuk's back or reassuring him in some other way—Sanghyuk was far from a child no matter what Jaehwan still seemed to think at times, but lately Hongbin had been reminded that he was still young. Right now, he looked very young.

"So is Hakyeon," Hongbin reminded him. "He's alright, isn't he?"

Sanghyuk seemed to pause although the both of them continued to walk at a steady pace before he nodded. The boy had been frightened badly that day even if he did not like to admit it. Hakyeon—Hakyeon was different and that difference had set him apart in Sanghyuk's mind. The difference meant that he wasn't a threat and Sanghyuk liked him, especially when the two of them ganged up on Jaehwan to tease him. Sanghyuk _knew_ Hakyeon, but he didn't know Chansik—Chansik was Hongbin's alpha which meant he must've been safe, but he was still an _alpha_.

"Oh." Hongbin suddenly stopped and Sanghyuk was two steps ahead before he thought to stop as well.

"Hongbin?" 

Hongbin smiled a little too widely and Sanghyuk felt a nervous twist in his gut.

"I. We forgot to tell you. Wonsik's an alpha."

Sanghyuk paled. "Oh," he said, blinking. "Well. It...I suppose we're almost there right?"

"Ah, about that…" Hongbin scratched at the back of his neck as he laughed nervously. "He lives in the upper quarters."

Suddenly, Sanghyuk understood exactly why Jaehwan hadn't wanted to go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a nice day and Jaehwan had been feeling a little cooped up himself. He realised—at about the same time that Hongbin had—that they'd never told Sanghyuk that Wonsik was an alpha. For all that the boy was apparently fearless and fine he could never manage to hide the instinctive flinch every time they neared someone who was too much _alpha_. Well. He was with Hongbin and Hongbin would manage to soothe him, Jaehwan was sure of it. 

Much like Sanghyuk had done earlier, Jaehwan stepped outside, blinking in the sunlight as he stretched, not caring about the strange glance a passerby gave him. He just stared back, making a face at their back as they walked away. 

Perhaps he should go for a walk, a short one, it ought not to do any harm. Jaehwan glanced up the street one way and then down the other—and then before he'd even managed to register it in conscious thought, he was back inside with the door shut and bolted and crouched down on the floor.

It'd been _that_ alpha.

Jaehwan tried to calm his pounding heart, his hands uselessly pressed over his ears as he shuddered, his body trembling. 

He ought not to have been here, not at all. Hakyeon had been all cryptic when Jaehwan had asked—'I think that Hakyeon knew who it'd been', Hongbin had said, and Hakyeon had all but confirmed that that man had lived in the Gardens, but Jaehwan couldn't glean any more than that. He'd also reassured him that he would not be bothering Jaehwan again.

And he was here. He'd been here. Standing only a few buildings away, and he'd seen Jaehwan, had met his eyes. He couldn't stop _shaking_ , couldn't think, could only feel fear flooding him even though he was safe now, safe inside, but his nerves were still pitched in terror. He'd come to find him, Jaehwan was sure of it. He'd somehow hunted him down, maybe he could smell him—old stories, stories told to bad children about alphas who knew you'd been bad and once they found you they could always find you again. It wasn't _real_ , Hakyeon had laughed but how else had he been found? Perhaps he was looking for Sanghyuk, he'd been interrupted after all. But Jaehwan—Jaehwan was sure it was him, that he was here to punish him for disobeying like that.

His mind tumbled through possibilities each more horrifying than the next until he was exhausted from the fear. He forced himself to stand, legs still shaking, and made his way to the kitchen.

It was colourful, fragrant with the sweet scent of flowers and the rich earthiness of dirt. Jaehwan breathed in deeply, closing his eyes as he took in the familiarity. Slowly, as he stood there, his heart calmed, and he opened his eyes to a clear, sharp image of Hakyeon's kitchen, filled with Jaehwan's flowers. He would have tea, he decided. He moved quickly, efficiently, to boil water, ignoring the way his hands were shaking.

He had just settled down for tea, the mug warm between his hands, when there was a knock at the door.

Jaehwan frowned. Could Hongbin and Sanghyuk have returned already? It couldn't have been Hakyeon—Hakyeon had a key. Of course he had a key, this was his apartment.

He strode to the front door, brows still creased. "Who is it?" he called out, as there was another soft knock.

There was no answer—perhaps they had not heard him. It might have been a neighbour, Jaehwan supposed.

But when he opened the door, it was no neighbour.

"Your name is Jaehwan, isn't it," the alpha said.

Jaehwan had taken a step back and now he swallowed, his hand still on the door. He ought to slam it shut, lock him out, but Jaehwan didn't doubt that the alpha could simply hold it open and push his way in. Jaehwan was frozen, but even so, he slowly nodded.

"How do you know?" Jaehwan asked. He willed his voice to steady, even as a thousand possibilities tumbled through his mind.

The alpha blinked and shrugged. His tongue flickered against his lips and in a burst of hysterical thought, Jaehwan wondered if he was going to eaten, very literally. But the alpha's next words slammed into his chest so hard that Jaehwan felt like he'd been physically struck.

"Hakyeon told me," the alpha said, like it was the most obvious, natural thing in the world. "I'm—I was looking for him."

Hakyeon. _Hakyeon_ had told him. Had Hakyeon also told this man, this _alpha_ where Jaehwan was? Had Hakyeon sent him, finally tired of Jaehwan? Had—

 

"I have cake."

" _Cake_?" It came out in a squawk, his voice squeaking, and yes, indeed, the man was holding up a cake.

"I didn't know you were here, or I would have brought a nicer one," the alpha said.

"No—no, no, no why cake—I mean, what do you want from me?" Jaehwan took a deep breath, steadying himself, forcing himself to stare into those piercing eyes. He rather thought he did a good job, calming his voice. From up close, the alpha was—he was still tall but he was not nearly as tall as Jaehwan had first thought. It made Jaehwan feel a little better. If he tried to physically drag Jaehwan off, Jaehwan might have a chance. He also wasn't wearing his uniform today. If anything, he was dressed like what Hakyeon usually wore—no, he was _wearing_ what Hakyeon usually wore. Jaehwan recognised the grey jacket he was wearing because it was old and it had been too big for Jaehwan and too big for Hakyeon but Hakyeon had kept it anyway.

None of this made sense.

"An apology," the alpha said.

Jaehwan bristled. "I am _not_ —"

"Not from you," the alpha cut him off. "For you. Can you let me in? Your neighbours…" He glanced to the side, tellingly, and although Jaehwan could not see past him, he could imagine what it must look like, this argument at the front door.

Against his better instincts, Jaehwan took a step back.

He knew Hakyeon. Hakyeon knew him. Hakyeon had said that he was not to be bothering them again.

And he'd brought _cake_.

Silently, Jaehwan led him to the sitting room. The basket and books that Hongbin had brought were still on the floor, and Jaehwan stepped around them. Hongbin's presence already seemed like a lifetime ago.

The cake went on the table, and then they were standing in too much of a confined space. Jaehwan crossed his arms over his chest, and his tail was bristling despite himself.

"Alright. You said you had an apology—" Jaehwan squinted at him. "You never told me your name. You know mine."

The alpha twitched and Jaehwan's tail immediately went between his legs and he had to bite back a whimper. He thought he'd seen a flash of anger in the man's eyes although the rest of him was utterly still.

"Taekwoon," the alpha said after a moment. "My name is Taekwoon."

"And you know Hakyeon," Jaehwan said flatly.

The alpha—Taekwoon, nodded. "We're friends," he said. "And...I owe you an apology."

"Did Hakyeon tell you to come here?" Jaehwan asked.

Taekwoon shook his head. "I didn't know you were here," he said—and blast it, why was his voice so soft, it made no sense, it was so very...un-alpha like. A small quirk in his expression. "But now I know where Hakyeon keeps going."

Jaehwan's mouth tightened as he stared down the alpha. "You said you were looking for him," he said. "Well he's not here, so you can leave now."

"You're strange," Taekwoon said and there was a frown on his face. A strange sound of laughter found its way out of Jaehwan and he stared at Taekwoon.

"I'm strange? Really? Why, because I'm an omega? Because I'm supposed to be _docile_?"

Taekwoon nodded, eyes never leaving Jaehwan's face.

Jaehwan broke off with a gasp and his mouth hung open for half a second before he remembered to close it. 

"And what's strange about that?" he snapped. "I am not—I am not some alpha play thing, why would I be docile, you, you...you _beast_."

Taekwoon growled, his ears tipping forward and Jaehwan stepped back with a small squeak before he could help himself. He was abruptly aware of the small space they were in and his bravado instantly disappeared and Jaehwan wondered if it was too late to make himself very small. But it wouldn't do now—and the alpha might take it for complete submission and he would _not_ submit to this man.

Jaehwan's eyes were fixed on the floor, even as he uncurled his tail from where it had slunk between his legs. 

"I'm sorry," the alpha suddenly said.

Jaehwan's gaze snapped upwards to him. His face looked vaguely pained, like the words themselves had physically pained him to say. 

"For?" Jaehwan asked.

There was a twist of confusion, Jaehwan recognised it as such.

"For…" Taekwoon said, and then paused. His eyes flickered to the side before they landed back on Jaehwan. "I brought cake," he said instead.

" _Cake_ ," Jaehwan repeated. "What does cake have to do—"

"You don't like cake?" Taekwoon asked. He frowned. 

Jaehwan gaped, unsure what to say. But at that moment, there was a knock at the door and Jaehwan froze. Hongbin? Sanghyuk? He wanted to tell them not to come in, Sanghyuk ought not to be here, but there was the click of the lock and Hakyeon's voice and Jaehwan relaxed.

"Did you miss me?" Hakyeon called out in a sing song voice.

Jaehwan was about to reply when he glanced at Taekwoon out of the corner of his eye—the alpha had frozen and Jaehwan peered at him curiously, trying to decipher his expression. It was...it was odd.

It grew even odder when Hakyeon walked in.

" _Taekwoon!?_ " 

Jaehwan gulped looking at Hakyeon, and then to Taekwoon who looked—guilty. He looked guilty. Hakyeon on the other hand seemed almost livid and Jaehwan didn't know where to look.

"He didn't do anything," Jaehwan said quickly. "He just...uh, he just brought cake?"

Jaehwan trailed off, realising in the same breath that he was defending the man and that he himself sounded pathetic. Neither of which were desirable.

But the anger seemed to be fading off of Hakyeon's face, the slight snarl disappearing, only to be replaced by a frown of consternation.

"Taekwoon, what are you doing here?" Hakyeon asked. "Can't I leave you for even a few minutes without you making trouble?"

"I didn't make trouble," Taekwoon said sullenly. "I was looking for you."

"You wandered off," Hakyeon snapped. Taekwoon's eyes narrowed at him. "And why are you here?"

Taekwoon's expression tightened, his eyes flickering over to Jaehwan before he looked back at Hakyeon. He blinked, simply staring at Hakyeon. Hakyeon stared back, although it looked like he wanted to say something, very badly.

This silence was not good for Jaehwan's heart.

"Let's eat," Taekwoon suddenly said. 

"No, we are not eating," Hakyeon said. Taekwoon glared at him but Hakyeon met his eyes evenly before he sighed, looking towards Jaehwan instead.

"I didn't tell him you were here, I swear to you," Hakyeon said. His eyes were filled with worry, abruptly different from a moment earlier, when he'd been looking at Taekwoon. "Where's Sanghyuk?"

"Out," Jaehwan said. The past few minutes had left him dazed, his head spinning. "With Hongbin."

"That's good," Hakyeon said cryptically. "Taekwoon, we're leaving. Now."

Jaehwan almost expected him the alpha to say no—the _cake_ , of all things—but Taekwoon nodded.

"Hakyeon, did you come here for something?" Jaehwan asked.

Hakyeon blinked at him, head tilting for a moment as he considered Jaehwan. "It can wait," he said. He glanced at Taekwoon before looking back at Jaehwan, and sighing deeply. "Say hi to Sanghyuk for me," Hakyeon said.

Jaehwan nodded, watching as the two alphas disappeared first down the hall, and then out the door. Slowly, he sank down into the chair.

Well, he thought, at least there was a cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> completely dropped writing style in this chapter but /o\ may or may not be avoiding writing other things T_T


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hakyeon and taekwoon sort out their argument and sanghyuk meets wonsik

Had one not known well Taekwoon of the Third Keys, they would have noted little difference in the man who'd entered and the man who'd left. Upset—it would've been the verdict both times, taking into account only his expressionless manner, the natural harshness which his sharply shaped eyes tended to lend, paired with the unflinching darkness of his eyes themselves. Even the rigid bearing of his ears, his tail—those had not seemed to change.

But both Taekwoon himself and the man beside him could read the difference so palpable in the air about them that it ought to have been visible. At that moment, had they not been in such a public area, Taekwoon might have had cause to strangle his companion, friend or no.

They walked side by side in silence, their shoes leaving hard sounds against the stone streets as they strode up the hill, towards their home and their duty. But had one not been able to read the change in the manner of Taekwoon, they had only to look to the man beside him, whose usually smiling countenance had hardened into something far more dangerous. There was much to be said of rigid training that there were no words traded right there outside the door of that humble apartment; but both men had their own reasons.

But they were reasons that were quickly stripped bare the moment they passed through the walls of the Gardens, up the thickly foliaged paths which neither paid mind to, and through the gates into the palace proper. They were reasons that lingered by only a thread as they traded looks—their expressions grim, and it was, as it almost always was, Hakyeon who led them not to their rooms, but to a part of the grounds far nearer. 

It was Taekwoon, however, who tossed Hakyeon a wooden training blade the moment they crossed the threshold to the arena.

Hakyeon growled, low and deep in his throat as he caught it by the hilt, stance automatically held to guard. It was with reason, because no sooner had Taekwoon retrieved his own wooden blade did he lunge at Hakyeon, fueled purely by anger and not by grace.

They were wooden blades but they were weighted—weighted to be far heavier than the blades they usually wielded and wore. They may not have been able to slice neatly through skin or flesh, but many a young recruit had suffered deep bruises, broken bones, or worse, if a misplaced guard or strike were to end in a heavy blow to the head. Neither Taekwoon or Hakyeon were young recruits, although they had both received their fair share of bruised shoulders and sore muscles through the years. Their strikes and parries may have been rougher about the edges, more strength behind each blow than necessary—more straight attacks than their usual quick dancing slashes that would be far more efficient and effective in dealing any sort of damage.

The sound of their wooden blades striking again and again rang throughout the arena—it was not empty, for rarely was it empty except when the sun was deep in slumber. They were loud, fast, irregular, and a small cluster of onlookers had gathered to watch. Mostly youngins, snatching time between tasks, it being mid afternoon and the vast majority of the inhabitants at proper work.

They were _good_ , the two of them, and their eyes locked as they pushed and pulled, sweat quickly dripping down their temples. Hakyeon grit his teeth, blocking a particularly savage slash to his side. Taekwoon was no better; his lip lifted in a slight snarl as he feinted to the left before having to hastily deflect an unexpected overhead strike, his muscles shaking at the effort. They had grown up together, had trained together, knew each other's strengths and weaknesses and foils and quirks. This might have been a bout of anger and not a test of skill, but to an observer, it was still a dangerous dance that they stepped to. Not a man or woman among them was fool enough to disregard the damage a simple wooden blade could do.

Hakyeon was only faintly aware of the audience—he knew that Taekwoon was even less so. His eyes were focussed on Hakyeon and solely on Hakyeon, gaze boring into Hakyeon's own eyes. They fought by near instinct, the rush of air that preceded the blade, the slightest shift of a shoulder, an arm, the smallest indication given by the twitch of a jaw. But just as Hakyeon knew that Taekwoon would always seem to favour his left side when he was about to slash low, Taekwoon knew that Hakyeon had a tendency to glance just a bit downwards when he meant to slice upwards. And they each knew that they knew, for time and time again they would trade notes about their tells, so that they could learn to hide them, erase them, refine their bladework until it was effortlessly seamless.

Not today.

Today, it ended as Taekwoon locked Hakyeon's blade downwards, wrenching it out of his grasp and in the same movement, slamming the hilt of his sword into Hakyeon's chest. Hakyeon fell hard on his back, winded. 

"Yield."

Taekwoon spoke softly, the end of his blade pointed at Hakyeon's throat. He was breathing heavily—they both were.

For a moment, it seemed as if Hakyeon might not have. His expression never changed, but simmering anger and a willingness to concede twinned within him before he heaved a sigh.

"I yield," he said.

Taekwoon's expression flickered out of impassivity for a brief moment, his ears twitching. He held the blade there for several seconds too long, Hakyeon still on the ground, before he dropped it and held out a hand to help Hakyeon up.

"How embarrassing," Hakyeon murmured—but loud enough for the words to carry. He glanced at their audience, lips quirking in a small, ironic smile before he bent down to pick up both his own blade and the one that Taekwoon had dropped.

Taekwoon, abruptly realising that they had been watched, turned quickly to stride out of the training arena. Hakyeon followed with far more measured steps, first returning the training blades to their proper places.

The sun, despite everything, was still bright and shining.

"I concede that I was not in the right," Hakyeon said softly. Words that were meant only for Taekwoon to hear.

They had walked far enough now that they were in a more wooded area of the grounds, one of the places where young lovers might wish to organise a secret rendezvous. It was, at the moment, deserted but for the two of them. 

They were both sweat drenched. Hakyeon took off his vest, nose wrinkling in irritation. They really ought to have shed that before throwing themselves at each other like wild dogs, but Hakyeon had sensed the murder from Taekwoon and had rather felt that there were more important things at hand. Taekwoon, perhaps also realising how hot and sweat damp the jacket that Hakyeon had given him was, shrugged it off. His shirt stuck to his skin, soaked, and Hakyeon suspected that his was much the same.

"Not in the right?" Taekwoon said. He had yet to turn towards Hakyeon.

"I was wrong to be angry at you," Hakyeon said. "Will that do?"

There was a low growl and Hakyeon stiffened, ready to leap back if needed. 

But there was no such need.

"I was not there to hurt him."

The words were spoken softly, all traces of anger bled away. It had been a good thing that Hakyeon had done, a thing that Hakyeon had known to do through long years of friendship, and Taekwoon felt better for it, even were he never to admit such a thing.

Here, under the rich foliage of trees far older than themselves, far from the apartment in which Hakyeon had found Taekwoon and even further still from the oil and smoke and grime that formed the base of the city, Taekwoon sighed deeply, softly, and then sat down on the grass, his long legs folded in front of him and pulled half to his chest. A fond smile made its way to Hakyeon's face. Still smiling, he took the two steps forward that would put him in line with his friend, before he too dropped to the ground, leaning easily against the trunk of a tree.

"And you brought him cake," Hakyeon said, teasing. He did feel bad now, truly, for the way he had acted earlier, and it was for this that he now sighed. "Gods above, I was afraid, if you must know. I did not think. I...I ought to have known better. I am sorry, Taekwoon. And afraid. If you must hold it against me, will it do if I let you knock me onto my ass a few more times?"

"You did not _let_ me," Taekwoon growled, but it was with no real anger in it. He too sighed, a soft, high sigh that was sometimes noted to be so at odds with his face and frame.

"Is that what you think?" Hakyeon asked, his voice lilting. Taekwoon snarled at him but there was much to be said for the ferocity of their earlier fight that even he did not move to attack Hakyeon.

"But really, Taekwoon, cake?"

Taekwoon made a face. "I thought it would be better than speaking to him, empty handed."

"And why did you wish to speak to him?" Hakyeon asked. There was a genuine frown there.

"I…" Taekwoon paused, his tongue flickering over his lips. "I thought I should apologise."

"Apologise." The word was repeated with far too much surprise in it for Taekwoon's comfort, something that Hakyeon quickly realised and addressed with a small shake of his head. "No, it's just…"

"He asked me for what," Taekwoon said. "And then you came."

A soft huff of laughter. "And I'm sorry for that," Hakyeon said. He sighed, deeply, something he seemed to have taken to doing a lot of, of late. "I was surprised."

"Sanghyuk—that's the boy?" Taekwoon asked. He turned to look at Hakyeon, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Yes," Hakyeon said, his expression twisting ruefully. "I imagine it might have been worse had he not been out. I can't think he has fond feelings for you right now."

"I didn't do anything," Taekwoon said, and it was sulky and sullen and so much like a child that Hakyeon didn't know whether he ought to strike him or reprimand him.

"But you've certainly terrified him," Hakyeon said gently. "It has taken a long time for him to be accustomed to even me. He fears alphas more than he ought to now, only with Jaehwan's good sense that he ought to fight them added on."

"Good sense?"

"That was a joke," Hakyeon said. An unreadable emotion passed over his face. "Perhaps one in poor taste."

"I didn't do anything wrong," Taekwoon said. The corners of his lips tightened and his tail swished back and forth several times before he stilled. 

"Perhaps not," Hakyeon said. This drew a sharp look of surprise from his friend; Hakyeon shook his head. "You were drawn there by forces beyond ourselves, and you acted in a manner that has been taught to you as the correct one, and I suppose it could even be said that you acted well by neither maiming nor taking either of the two. And yet, your actions still gravely hurt people, and I don't mean only Jaehwan and Sanghyuk, Taekwoon. Whatever the reason, whatever our intention—it is our duty to take responsibility for our actions, is it not?"

The words washed over Taekwoon, quiet and steady, and Taekwoon knew them each to be true. It was Hakyeon's way with words, his way with his voice, that he could draw people in and make them _listen_. Had Hakyeon been of a darker disposition, such a tongue might have been described as honeyed and too powerful, but there was not a spot of darkness within him that might have lent itself to such pursuits. And even if there had been, Taekwoon would have trusted his words.

And so, Taekwoon nodded.

There was little else for him to say, with Hakyeon having said it all.

But there was something else there, something that had been bothering Taekwoon since the day he'd first laid eyes on the pair of omegas—

"Forces beyond ourselves," he echoed. "Have you learned anything?"

Hakyeon pressed his lips together and then shook his head. "Little more than I already knew," he said. He would've sighed, but his brows merely creased instead in the smallest hints of a furrow. It was an unconscious motion, one that accompanied a thought that bore no fruit in itself.

"What do you know?" Taekwoon asked and Hakyeon blinked. This time, his frown was one he was well aware of, still unconscious and involuntary as it was.

"What do you mean?" Hakyeon asked. It was not so much a sharp question as it was one that was seated in irritation. That had not been what Taekwoon meant, but Hakyeon's reply was an immediate one, one that did not carry as much thought as it should've. As if understanding—and perhaps Taekwoon had—the other man shook his head.

"About what you've learned," Taekwoon said. It was said, as always, in a soft tone. 

About what he'd learned. 

"Did you know that before this was the land of the Twelve Provinces, it used to be the land of the Nine Provinces?" Hakyeon spoke softly in almost a sense of wonderment. 

"Is that important?"

Hakyeon shook his head. "No," he said in a near murmur. "It's just so interesting how much of our history we've lost or forgotten. I think that many of those books haven't been touched in some time, at least not in our lifetime if not more."

A silence descended as Hakyeon seemed to sink into himself, drawing about him a veil of something that Taekwoon could not quite name. His expression had changed, subtly, a near enough change that Taekwoon ought to have missed in anyone but Hakyeon. He wondered what it was that Hakyeon was thinking, what it was that Hakyeon was putting into order in his mind, a faint hint of impatience burnishing his own edges. 

"Life," Hakyeon finally said. His eyes settled not on Taekwoon, but they had not turned towards Taekwoon in some time. They cast into the distance, skimming over Taekwoon but not pausing, and then he was turning towards the center of the city, his gaze going skyward. Taekwoon followed that gaze, looked up, neck craning, even though he knew without looking what it must've been that had so grasped Hakyeon's attention.

The Key.

The inhabitants of the city, the citizens, those beyond both these white walls and the three great walls—the Key was a simple fact of life, unquestioned. Perhaps it was to be beheld by awe were a foreign traveller to lay eyes on it for the first time—but that could be said for the City itself, with the Key only a small part of its greatness. They did not question it, just as they did not question the right to rule of the Kings and Queens and Princes and Princesses that had passed down generation by generation the secrets of the City. They had not always been secrets if Hakyeon understood correctly, but had become such as simple facts had faded into useless trivia, into obscurity.

But Taekwoon knew much of this, for much of this was part of what was passed down from generation to generation of the Keys of those of them whose task it was to guard the Princes and Princesses—at a distance. And that, that was a secret in itself.

But Taekwoon knew of that too.

There was so little then that Hakyeon had learned to be fact and true, the rest were slim whispers from children's songs and fairytales, but history had always said that it was in such places that the truth most firmly lasted. Books could be burned or rewritten; songs and rhymes passed through the mouths of babes remained.

"Life," he repeated, and this time he looked away from the Key, turning behind him now, towards the City. Had the trees not obscured their view, they would have been able to see far across the oceans, immense and neverending. There was no life there, but life teemed between here and those waters and it was that life that drove the City. That protected the City. The mere _act_ of living, it seemed—of being born, of existing, of bonding, of dying. Omega, beta, alpha, it seemed to make little difference, although Hakyeon knew that it was the omegas by sheer number who truly held the City in its place.

Although it was because of their sheer number that they were considered dispensable, indispensable as they were.

"The war," Hakyeon said when Taekwoon said nothing. "It was not easy."

"No," Taekwoon said. It was a soft word—and Hakyeon knew what it was that he was thinking, they had all lost brothers, friends, but that was not what Hakyeon had meant.

No, he meant the way they'd stood by and watched as the Third Prince—a young man whose true name they did not even know, who they had never spoken to—stand by the root of the Key, hands braced against it, as had his siblings, sweat soaking through their clothes. They'd lost the Fourth Prince at that time—had watched first his collapse, and then with the soft alarm that would always accompany death.

A lament had been written and then sung. To this day, Hakyeon did not know where those of the Fourth Keys who had survived the war had gone—a question that no doubt haunted Taekwoon even more deeply. But they had served their duty, and Hakyeon had the lingering sense that if this slowing was not stopped, they would each be called upon to do so.

"It was not easy on the City," Hakyeon corrected him softly. There was a small shift of understanding, and then Taekwoon nodded. And then: "I do not believe that the City, the Key, is protected by the royal family alone."

"It's by the people, isn't it?" Taekwoon asked. 

Hakyeon shook his head. "No, not only that," he said. "Something more. I can't be sure of it yet, but there are old tales—fairy tales, truly, and they extend beyond our borders alone." He sighed, a detached sigh, soft and full of resigned breath. "And even those tales do not seem to agree."

Taekwoon nodded at Hakyeon's words as he listened. 

"You think it's important," he said, when it was clear that Hakyeon had finished speaking.

Hakyeon shrugged at this, a wry smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I can't say," he said, "but perhaps it is, perhaps it isn't, but whatever it is has to do with something _down_ , and with something slowing—that isn't much to go on I think, but it's also not nothing."

Another nod from Taekwoon, and then a glance at the sky. 

"We should go," he said.

Hakyeon sighed, again, and got to his feet. "To the Prince," he said, and held out a hand for Taekwoon to take.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Is it much farther?" Sanghyuk frowned as they walked through streets he had never walked through, as they passed _things_ that he had heard of but never seen. There were the trams—not the massive ones that ran up from the port, but smaller, more frequent, a common sight once one went far enough up and they were far enough up now. And then there were the Beasts, which Sanghyuk had always thought was a strange name but now that he had seen one, he understood—they looked almost _fearsome_ , oddly shaped, wheels that were not quite wheels and yet they were oddly silent. They were expensive, Hongbin had told him. Heavily modified from the ones used down at the ports which were loud and clunky and billowed smoke.

There was no clear demarcation, no wall or border, but like there was between the central and lower quarters, it was an almost palpable change as they passed into the upper quarters. They were surrounded by _alphas_ , Sanghyuk could feel it down to his bones. Hongbin walked naturally, casually, confidently, but Sanghyuk had spent enough time with Hongbin now to recognise the small tells of his unsurety, the falters of his poise. Sanghyuk tried to mimic it, hold himself high, keep his tail from curling between his legs, but he was sure that every single pair of eyes that landed on him could know _omega_ , could know that he was there for the taking. 

Hongbin had assured him that people were not so crass, that Sanghyuk would be perfectly fine, that only someone of the crudest upbringing would even think to accost Sanghyuk. He'd left out the part where the alpha from the other day had been far from crass or crude, but Sanghyuk understood what he meant. 

But fear was a hard thing to shake. 

"Hyuk? We're here." Hongbin patted Sanghyuk on the shoulder, stopping him from walking past the door that he indicated.

"We are?" Sanghyuk echoed. "But we've barely gone anywhere."

Hongbin laughed softly, not unkindly. "I told you it was safe. Now come on, I think you'll like Wonsik."

Sanghyuk trailed after Hongbin as Hongbin pushed open the door to a store with RAVI written down the side, the glass window display lined full of intricately designed pocket watches and clocks. 

Of course—Wonsik had been the one to design the mechanisms of their shop. It made sense that he was a gearmaster. 

There was no one in the shop when they entered and Hongbin made some sort of exasperated face although there was only Sanghyuk to see it.

"Oi, Wonsik, get your ass out here!" Hongbin yelled. His voice echoed in the store and Sanghyuk had to fight the urge to clap his hands over his ears at how it seemed to bounce against the walls.

"I think he'd have heard that even if he was dead," Sanghyuk muttered. Hongbin snorted and shook his head.

"You've never tried to wake him when he's asleep," Hongbin said. He glanced at a door in the back, eyeing it critically. "Might have to go get him if he really is. Let's give him a few minutes. Oi! Wonsik!"

Sanghyuk winced, but it seemed like second time was the charm in this case, because there was the sound of activity from behind the door before a young man stumbled through, clearly having been woken from sleep, hair messy and tousled. Sanghyuk stared hard at him—his ears seemed to be a light gray, but his hair was _blue_ , of all things.

"Hongbin?" The man who must've been Wonsik rubbed at his eyes as he moved around the counter. He quickly turned towards Sanghyuk, who was still staring at this stranger. "Who's this?"

"I'm Sanghyuk," he said. "Your hair's blue."

Hongbin snorted in amusement, glancing at Wonsik with no lack of mirth. "Told you it looks stupid," he said. "Can't believe it's _still_ blue, I would've thought you'd have changed it already."

Wonsik looked a little rueful as he carded fingers through his hair. "Actually I did, but then I decided I liked this better. You know, I haven't seen you in almost half a year."

"Yeah, I do know," Hongbin said. He shrugged and then gestured towards Sanghyuk. "I figured I'd bring him along if I was going to visit, better than being cooped up down at Hakyeon's place."

Wonsik's brows drew abruptly downwards, and Sanghyuk realised that Wonsik must've not known about anything that had happened, these past few weeks.

"Wait, Hakyeon's place? Cooped up?"

Hongbin blinked. "It's a long story," he said. His expression tightened for a moment before he followed Wonsik through to the back. Sanghyuk trailed after them, eyes still lingering behind himself; he'd never seen so many clocks in one place nor had he seen such contraptions as Wonsik had displayed, some of which Sanghyuk could not begin to fathom their use. 

"I'll get some tea. Or khav? Biscuits?"

Sanghyuk looked about the kitchen, unsure of where to stand or where to sit. Hongbin was leaning comfortably against a counter as Wonsik opened one cabinet and then another. It was far more spacious than their own kitchen—and he'd never really gotten a measure of the one in Hakyeon's apartment because of how _full_ it was with flowers, but Wonsik's kitchen seemed to be truly large. And largely unused, with only one small section between the sink and the stove showing any sign of activity.

"No beer?" Hongbin teased, and Wonsik made a face as he glanced back at him.

"I still have work to do after this," Wonsik said, "and isn't Sanghyuk too young?"

Sanghyuk's eyebrows shot up at this. "I'm an adult," he said flatly.

"Mostly," Hongbin said, placid in tone but sly as he looked towards Sanghyuk. "Tea's fine, I just wanted to check you hadn't managed to burn the place down or anything."

"Me?" Wonsik asked incredulously. Three mugs were placed on the table with loud thunks. Wonsik gestured for Sanghyuk to sit, even as he rolled his eyes at Hongbin. "All I remember is _you_ setting a fire while boiling water."

"Hongbin did?" Sanghyuk perked up, grinning at Hongbin. Hongbin had turned a little pink and was laughing, waving his hands in front of him in denial.

"It's true," Wonsik said solemnly. "Hongbin's grandma banned us both from the kitchen after that."

A tight expression flashed across Wonsik's face. Sanghyuk barely caught the alpha's quick glance towards Hongbin, and barely missed the stiff nonchalance with which Hongbin had listened to Wonsik's words with. 

"So you're childhood friends," Sanghyuk said. A silence had fallen after Wonsik's glance, stiff and unyielding and heavy around Sanghyuk's shoulders. It was gone now, even more so when Wonsik looped an arm about Hongbin's shoulders.

"Yup, we go way back," Wonsik said.

"Ugh, get off," Hongbin said. He shook Wonsik off but from his easy laugh it was clear the annoyance was a false one. 

Sanghyuk was grinning as he watched the two shove each other around, joking as they made tea, as Hongbin seemed to fit so neatly into this space. They had not seen each other in almost half a year Wonsik had said, but Sanghyuk could see nothing that would say that had been so. He was envious, a thing not easy to admit to himself.

"I think you owe me a story," Wonsik said. They'd settled down and Sanghyuk wrapped his hands around the mug of tea. Bread and cold cuts had been produced, and Sanghyuk nibbled at it now.

"Yeah." Hongbin shifted uneasily in his seat. A myriad of emotions passed over his face. Sanghyuk swallowed, gripping the mug a little tighter.

"I'll tell him," Sanghyuk said. His voice was loud even to himself—although Sanghyuk did not realise that it was not, in truth, very loud. Sanghyuk nearly shrank under the twin gazes that settled heavily on him, both with more than a mere modicum of surprise. Hongbin's, however, perhaps held more.

Sanghyuk turned to Hongbin now, meeting his eyes steadily even as his gaze seemed to waver. "It's my fault anyway," he said with a small shrug. He saw Hongbin's mouth open to retort, but even before then, the corners of Sanghyuk's mouth had drawn tight and he'd already cut him off with a sharp "don't." But then Sanghyuk paused, and had he been a different person, this was where he might have sighed heavily. His eyes fell to the table and the silence he left in the wake of those words remained undisturbed, awaiting Sanghyuk.

"Even if it's not my fault, it still started with me," Sanghyuk said. It was quieter than he would've liked. Sanghyuk had never thought of himself as a quiet person, as a nervous person. Yet at this moment, he very much felt like both. Hongbin seemed about to speak again and Sanghyuk shook his head. Through this, Wonsik had remained silent, and it was to him now that Sanghyuk turned. 

"I was working outside of the shop when an alpha came," he said. His voice was more nonchalant than he felt. The words seemed to catch in his throat, dragging with them the memory of those eyes that had pinned him down, had pierced through him to hold him to the spot. He saw the surprise in Wonsik's eyes—in the _alpha's_ eyes—and Sanghyuk shrugged.

"He called me pretty, told me to go with him. I would have, but then Jaehwan stopped him." Sanghyuk paused again and now, even though his eyes were meeting Wonsik's, he was not seeing Wonsik. It could have been said that he was seeing Jaehwan crumple in front of him but it would have been more precise to say that he was seeing nothing at all, and it was the fear that he had felt in that moment that was encompassing him, obscuring his sight. When he spoke again, it was as if through a dream, as if through someone else's words that were merely borrowing Sanghyuk's voice.

"The alpha left, Jaehwan collapsed. Hongbin went to get Hakyeon and I took Jaehwan inside. Hakyeon came and helped me get Jaehwan to a bed—Hongbin's bed," and Sanghyuk laughed a little at this, the corners of his lips twitching. "And then him and Hongbin went outside to talk so I couldn't hear, and then Hakyeon left."

Sanghyuk had fallen asleep after that, had been ushered upstairs by Hongbin and Sanghyuk had gone quietly, had sat down on his bed and unknowingly slept until well past the sun having risen. Jaehwan had been awake, in a manner of speaking, when Sanghyuk had awoken in the morning. The shop had been quiet. Empty. Hongbin had returned to his alpha's place for the first time in weeks if not months, and Jaehwan had been utterly drained, weak, but alive and awake. But this, Sanghyuk knew Wonsik would not need to know.

"Hakyeon came back a few days later and suggested we move to an apartment he has in the central quarters, and that's where we've been since," Sanghyuk finished.

He'd had ample time to puzzle over Hakyeon's words from that day. That Sanghyuk hadn't been the only one, that it'd been alphas not from the central quarters, and then 'Daewon'. And then there had been Jaehwan. Jaehwan agreeing so quickly when Hakyeon had said 'it's not just that' and nothing else. Jaehwan who had been so quick to brand alphas from the Gardens as 'Hakyeon's kind', and then Jaehwan who had paled at that one name.

Sanghyuk had never paid such things much mind. They seemed to be things from a world far away. Everyone knew that alphas _could_ force an omega to bend to their will just as they knew that betas could command—but not force—an omega. But being taken by an omega was like an adult's warning to a child to not run off, to not stray far. Every now and then one would hear of such a thing happening but Sanghyuk could not remember it ever happening near him. Although as to what Sanghyuk could remember—Sanghyuk cut that thought off as quickly as it surfaced.

But if being taken was an admonishment, there were things far worse, unthinkable nightmares.

Sanghyuk met Wonsik's eyes and gave a small one shouldered shrug, a quirk of a smile. "It's been pretty boring."

"Boring's good," Hongbin said, words following fast after Sanghyuk's. 

It had been a dry account that Sanghyuk had given. There had been moments when Hongbin had wanted to cut in, to elaborate, but there seemed to be little point when Sanghyuk had captured everything important, dry and bare as it had been.

"I've been at Chansik's," Hongbin told Wonsik. "I know Hakyeon's been around pretty often though, although I've only seen him once since then."

"The central quarters?" Wonsik asked. His brows had drawn deep in concern. Him and Hongbin shared a look, one that Sanghyuk couldn't quite decipher.

"Hakyeon thought it was safer," Hongbin said. "Gods above, you know I've never thought much of Hakyeon's judgement but…"

"There are times," Wonsik said quietly. "Intuition."

"Maybe." Hongbin shrugged and then grinned. "You mean mine or his?"

Wonsik shook his head and laughed, a sort of low, gravelly laugh that was quite unlike Hongbin's and even more unlike Jaehwan's. Wonsik was also tall, if Sanghyuk recalled properly, and while he hadn't bled _alpha_ like the white-coated one that day had, Sanghyuk still got the distinct impression of _alpha_ through his easy confidence, his off-handed gestures like he knew that the world would not obstruct his will.

"Right, do you think you could show Sanghyuk around?" Hongbin said suddenly. He grinned cheekily at Sanghyuk, dimples showing. "I promise he won't break anything."

"Then I'll break everything," Sanghyuk said to Hongbin before turning back to Wonsik. "I won't, promise."

Wonsik laughed, pushing his chair back from the table. Sanghyuk quickly downed the rest of his tea before he followed, and Hongbin brought up the tail of the small procession.

"It's not that impressive," Wonsik said, leading them through a door in the hall they'd passed by earlier. It led down a set of stairs and to another door that Wonsik opened and ushered them through.

Sanghyuk froze a single step in; contraptions of all sorts filled the space, each of intricate design, all in various states of completion. There was a wall filled of parts and a table covered in tools. Before Sanghyuk had thought to ask permission, he had already approached it to look down on the small, mechanical contraption there. It must've been an animal of some kind, four legged, and when he reached out to it he was stopped by Hongbin's burst of laughter.

"Told you you'd like it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am free to write again \o/ this chapter was supposed to have another scene which is why it's a little shorter than i meant it to be...but also i wrote most of this two months ago =_=
> 
> incidentally, i too wonder when we will get to the keo


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaehwan panics, sanghyuk panics, and idt i've ever written this much drama

It was not so long after Hakyeon and the other alpha had left that Jaehwan followed their footsteps out through the door and into the street. A moment of apprehension rustled through him as he stepped out—too reminiscent of a mere hour or two earlier regardless of how long it felt.

It felt odd to be alone. It had been a long time since Jaehwan had last been alone like this for any length of time with neither Sanghyuk nor Hongbin around. There had been times where Hongbin had been off with Chansik and Sanghyuk had been hanging out with his friends after the shop had closed, but even then Jaehwan had had the shop.

He had taken two steps into the street before he paused, faced with the same dilemma that had kept Sanghyuk cooped up inside—there seemed to be few places to go. There was certainly no need for groceries and Jaehwan had no particular need or want to purchase anything else. There were people Jaehwan could visit he supposed—it seemed like it'd been ages since he'd last seen Seokjin—but this was a time of day where he doubted anyone would be free.

But he had the shop. There was little chance the place would still be alive, with the flowers untended to. Flowers were like that. Living in a place such as a small building at the uppermost borders of the lower quarters, they needed attention, they needed care. They needed carefully cast light and measured doses of water, the more particular among them requiring careful adjustments to the soil, balanced mixtures of acids and phosphus. Free and unburdened, flowers needed no such care to bloom, to grace the world with the multitudes of colours that came with their very existence.

Yes, it would be good to go to the shop. He had warned Sanghyuk from it but Sanghyuk was young and had no reason to go. Jaehwan had not been told as much, but he had seen from Sanghyuk's eyes and bearing, when he'd returned from a visit to Sungjae one day, that it would be wiser to remain scarce than not for the time being. He had had ample reason to curse the alpha—Taekwoon, his mind helpfully supplying the name—that afternoon. Sanghyuk had done nothing to deserve this. He had had the bad fortune of being outside when a presumptuous monster had strolled down to their peaceful quarter and decided that he wanted Sanghyuk, as if omegas simply existed for the picking and for their pleasure. And yet—and it was always with a twinge of guilt that Jaehwan thought this—he had always taken for fact that they would be safe from such things, as high and removed from the lower quarters as one could be. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement even with the most crude, heartless beasts that so high up and near the central quarters, there would be no place for them. And yet, it had been outside their shop and home that Sanghyuk had had misfortune cast upon him, and that it was now Sanghyuk that seemed to have been shifted from his place in the world.

But Jaehwan never made it to the shop.

It was a sunny day, the skies clear, but the temperament of the heavens seldom had any true bearing on that which happened on the ground below. Jaehwan had not been thinking of much as he'd walked, as enveloped in his own thoughts as he had been. Passing thoughts, a sort of unconscious sea. Nor had he been paying much mind to the streets he turned on, the buildings he passed—he had not had much occasion to come this way since he and Sanghyuk had moved to Hakyeon's apartment, but it still seemed to him that this was a path as familiar as a path could be. Like a horse could always find its way home, and a bird could always return to its nest, Jaehwan knew without a doubt where he could find the place he had planted his heart.

And yet the street he found himself rooted to the spot in—it was a street that was entirely unfamiliar to him. He did not know the shops, the people, the families that lived here. He did not know the fastest way from his home to the grocer's, did not know which streets he ought to avoid because he didn't want to pass in front of the home of the old grandpa he'd once accidentally insulted. 

It left him adrift, that fact. 

He'd stopped, turned just about the corner, a laneway a little ahead and to his left. There was a pair walking towards him.

Jaehwan could say that it was Sanghyuk he was seeing, instead of the young boy, clearly terrified, tail between his legs—but that would not have been the entire truth. 

He was, Jaehwan abruptly realised, otherwise alone in the street. It was midday. He ought not to have been alone. The alpha had an almost protective arm about the boy's shoulders, but there was no doubt in Jaehwan's mind—in anyone's, had anyone else been there—who the boy needed to be protected from. Jaehwan forced himself to look at the boy now, and he was not so much of a boy. He might've even been as Jaehwan's age. His colouring was darker, almost black. _You're supposed to be docile_ , Jaehwan seemed to hear in his mind, and yes, he supposed, this one was docile. Frightened, but docile.

He ought to stop him. Jaehwan dragged his eyes to the alpha now—there was no resemblance to Taekwoon. Heavy set jaw, broad frame—

"What're you looking at?"

—deep voice.

For a moment, Jaehwan saw himself staring back at that alpha, saw himself swinging his fist into his face, saw himself grabbing the boy and running until they were both safe and far away, everything he hadn't been able to do. For a moment.

But a moment was only a slip in time, and it was the merest, flickering flight of fantasy before reality crashed into Jaehwan and all but flung him to the side of the road, ears flattened and tail between his legs.

Docile.

He was shaking—Jaehwan found himself shaking, arms clutched about himself. The pair was gone, down the laneway just ahead of Jaehwan. The street was still empty.

He was shaking. He couldn't seem to stop shaking. He felt like he was shaking so hard he would fall apart, but for the air about him so oppressive that it crushed him together. The boy was going to die. The air was heavy, so heavy, and Jaehwan heaved air into his lungs but it wouldn't come. He was in the street, still alone in the street. He didn't know the street. He didn't know where was home. He ought to go home, go to the shop—no, he ought to go back, find Sanghyuk.

But the street was unfamiliar and Jaehwan turned a corner and it was still unfamiliar. Maybe the alpha had friends. Jaehwan was still shaking. Air choked in his throat. Sweat seemed to be beading on his skin and yet it was not damp and there simply wasn't enough air, he ought to be going uphill but maybe it wouldn't be just that one alpha, maybe it would be three, he wasn't running and yet his heart was pounding and he really ought to go home—home, where was home? The shop? Hakyeon's? The old apartment down by the docks he'd spent nearly three years in, or the small apartment he'd grown up in, when it hadn't been just him, when he'd had people, when he'd had—no, no, no he had to go, he had to go home. He didn't know this place, he couldn't _think_ , think Jaehwan, think, but maybe there would be another omega, maybe one of the two would flee, maybe it would be that boy, but he didn't know _where_ he was. Maybe, maybe, maybe. The word sounded in him, tangled in him, wormed its way between bone and muscle, around the veins of his heart, in haphazard time with his steps—he had to run, he had to get help, there had to be someone because Jaehwan hadn't stopped him, that he hadn't helped, it was his fault, he'd been there, he'd been _right there_ but all he'd done was stand aside— _docile_ —but he'd stopped the alpha from taking Sanghyuk hadn't he, he'd done that, he could've done it again, he could've, he could've but no, he couldn't, he had to get back, had to, Sanghyuk, no, he couldn't—

No, no, no.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The place was empty when Sanghyuk returned, and he let himself in from a small gate in the back laneway, unlocking the hidden latch there. Jaehwan was not home, but it was a nice day and Sanghyuk wouldn't be surprised if Jaehwan had decided to take advantage of it.

They'd been right about Wonsik. Sanghyuk _had_ liked both the man and his work, and had come home cradling a small mechanical bird. Its wings would flap once it had been wound, its beak would open and close in a silent mimicry of singing. 

"It's not very good of a toy," Wonsik had said ruefully. "I thought of making one that could fly, but it wouldn't be very bird shaped."

"You're sure I can have it?" Sanghyuk had asked. It was Hongbin who had laughed and shoved it towards Sanghyuk—"do you think he needs it?" Hongbin had asked, gesturing at the place around them.

Sanghyuk went up to his room now—the room he was staying in while he was here. He'd started thinking of it as _his_ room even though it wasn't. It was his clothes in the dresser though, a small pile of books on the chair, and now the mechanical bird on the windowsill. It was, in truth, the frame of a bird but for its wings, thin leather stretched over a light metal frame. Instead of a heart it held the set of gears that would move its wings, its gut held the spring, its tail the wind-up. Small red jewels were set in place of eyes. It had felt light in Sanghyuk's hands and he couldn't help but wonder if it could not fly, after all.

Wonsik had promised him a watch too—"it's no trouble, besides, it's more fun making one for a friend than someone I don't know at all." Sanghyuk had been a little taken aback at that, at how quickly Wonsik had called him 'friend', as they had just met. Wonsik had laughed at his expression, which must have shown. "It'll be a while, don't look forward to it too soon."

Sanghyuk went back downstairs, leaving the bird by the window. The books that Hongbin had brought were still in the sitting room and Sanghyuk picked them up now, stacking them neatly on the table. Hongbin had forgotten the basket but he'd just get it the next time he came.

Hongbin had said there were a few other things in there as well, and Sanghyuk smiled as he pulled out a small feathered ball, reassuringly heavy in its weight. He hadn't seen one of these in... He couldn't recall. He gave the jegi an experimental kick, laughing to himself when he missed entirely and had to retrieve it from underneath a chair.

Jaehwan still wasn't back, but perhaps he'd just stepped out when Sanghyuk had returned. He ought to be back in an hour at most. Sanghyuk was hungry, but it felt like he ought to wait until Jaehwan had returned before he ate.

This was when—and he should've noticed this far earlier—he saw the cake. There was a cake on the kitchen table.

Sanghyuk narrowed his eyes at it. Jaehwan would not have not bought cake. He certainly would not have bought such a fancy cake with icing and pretty patterns and decorations. It might have been Hakyeon—he could have come while they were both out and have just left it, but there was no reason for Hakyeon to have brought a cake either.

Whatever the reason for its existence, Sanghyuk let it be and settled down in the kitchen with two of the penny-books that Hongbin had brought, more than enough to occupy himself with until Jaehwan returned.

The sun was already only a few fingerspans away from the horizon when Sanghyuk finished the second, and he was still quite alone in the apartment. They had been extremely silly and Sanghyuk highly doubted that that was exactly how sex worked—not that he was particularly keen on verifying that for himself any time soon—and nor did he believe that a lady capable of adventuring in the desert needed any real saving by a deeply wronged bandit, but they had, as Sanghyuk had surmised, helped him pass the time. 

Too much time, it seemed. 

Sanghyuk frowned to himself, his brows drawing downwards as he stood and went to first the window, and then to the door. He stood by it for long moments as if by doing so Jaehwan would appear which was a ludicrous idea in itself. Like Jaehwan had felt, hours earlier, Sanghyuk felt oddly alone. It was too quiet. No Jaehwan. No Hongbin. Sanghyuk wasn't a kid anymore, hadn't been for a while, but he felt oddly like a lost child right now, devoid of guardianship. He didn't _need_ looking after.

He didn't know where Hongbin lived, just that it was somewhere in the central area but that wasn't much to go on. It would have taken him hours just to circle the city, even though he knew that Hongbin didn't live far given how often he would visit.

The sun was not quite set. It would still be an hour or two until then. There seemed to Sanghyuk that there was little to do except to walk through the door, leave the apartment empty behind him as it had stood, before he had returned. It was not worry that was eating at him, he told himself. It was simply...simply concern.

It was likely, Sanghyuk thought, that Jaehwan had returned to the shop and had lost track of the time. Hongbin had admitted to Sanghyuk a few days back that he'd taken to going, if not every day, then every other day, to check on the flowers that Jaehwan had poured his life into, watering them, feeding them. Keeping them alive. A real smile flitted across Sanghyuk's face at that. How pleased and surprised Jaehwan must've been when he'd gone in. He was likely fussing about right at this moment, pruning and trimming and all the other things Hongbin would not have done.

It was not far from here to the shop. Sanghyuk had cause to wonder if that had been intentional. In the span of a few days, he had learned that Hakyeon had been the one who had purchased the building—Sanghyuk had never questioned its existence. He had been in Jaehwan's life, and then he had been out of it, and then there had been the shop, there and alive. He had also learned that it was Hakyeon who had introduced Hongbin to Jaehwan, although Hongbin was elusive on how it was that he had known Hakyeon. And then he had learned that it was through Hongbin that they had known Wonsik, and that all this had happened before Sanghyuk had come. 

The thoughts of the past were the thoughts that accompanied Sanghyuk as he made his way to the store. The door was locked—Sanghyuk had no key. He _had_ a key, somewhere. Up in his room, behind the door that was locked. He hadn't taken it with him, hadn't thought to take it with him. Sanghyuk knocked on the door. The street had a preternatural silence about it, although Sanghyuk knew it was because it was nearing dinnertime, the shops closed for the day. This was a quiet part of town; no inns, no taverns, no such establishments for either food or drink. Not much to be done after dark.

Sanghyuk knocked again and the shadows were growing longer now, and there was only silence in response. Emptiness. It was empty inside. Sanghyuk thought of going around the back, of peering into a window, but he had no need to, to know that it was empty inside. That Jaehwan was not there.

It was then, and only then, did Sanghyuk admit to himself that it was worry that had been eating at him from almost the moment he had returned home. He cursed himself for not searching for Jaehwan sooner, for not looking for him earlier, but he'd been waiting for Jaehwan to come home and for Sanghyuk to ask him where he'd been and for Jaehwan to ask him, teasing, if he'd been worried and Sanghyuk would've laughed and shot off some half-insulting quip.

He'd done a cursory circuit about the streets near the shop, but he quickly turned his steps back upwards. There was little chance that he'd find Jaehwan near here. If he were nearby, Jaehwan would've found his way back to the store. 

It is human nature to take a situation and run it through all its possible outcomes, all the possible reasons. And at this moment, there was one very possible outcome, and one very possible reason. Sanghyuk, however, turned his mind very firmly away from that reason. There would be time for that later. After he found Jaehwan.

He wished he knew where Hongbin lived—it would make it easier, to have the two of them. And…

Sanghyuk bit back the thought, but the truth remained that he was an omega, alone, in the central quarters, and it was fast growing dark. An omega, alone, surrounded by alphas and betas—Sanghyuk drew himself taller, stiffened his shoulders, kept his tail loose and relaxed. Calm. He was getting big, _was_ big. Bigger than Jaehwan, now. Bigger than most people. Most people, not only most omegas. That was how it worked.

He took a criss-cross of streets and laneways—it seemed far more likely that Jaehwan would be in one of the latter, hidden from plain view. It was nearly full dark now and Sanghyuk had to squint down some of the laneways, narrower, darker, but there was no Jaehwan.

Perhaps, Sanghyuk thought, Jaehwan had already returned home, and this was the reason why Sanghyuk could not find him now. And yet, some sense told him that this was not true, even though Sanghyuk could not have answered how he knew, had he been pressed. The knowing of a friend's nature, it could have been. And yet, Sanghyuk was left with little choice. He bit at his lip, worried at it with blunt teeth that would not draw blood no matter how hard he tried. Sanghyuk sank down against the wall of a building, tucking himself out of view and into the shadows. Going through his options.

He did not have very many options. Panic and fear nipped at him from all directions like a pack of feral dogs, and Sanghyuk tried desperately not to let them overtake him. He couldn't simply go home—go home, await the worst, not even having tried. But it was a dark night, and Sanghyuk was alone. No Jaehwan—of course not, he was _looking_ for Jaehwan, Sanghyuk thought with a mild burst of hysteria—and no Hongbin to turn to. Because he didn't know where Hongbin lived, because Sanghyuk was a coward who'd been avoiding Hongbin's alpha simply because he was an alpha, and now look where that'd gotten him.

A thought, fleeting: he knew where someone else lived.

Quickly, before doubt and logic could crush him under their weight, Sanghyuk scrambled to his feet and set out with resolute steps to trace a path they'd taken earlier in the day. It was good, Sanghyuk mused, that he was good with directions, that he could remember a path, mark down landmarks in his mind's eye. He focussed on this, clung to this fact, ignored the minute or so spent walking across the wide street that separated the well-bred from the common people. It was dark. It was night. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, shadows already sharpened into crisp lines, and it wasn't so far. 

 

There were people about— _alphas_ , but Sanghyuk quickly pushed that thought from his mind. It didn't stop him from ducking into an alleyway, dark, made himself small, back to the wall. Realised moments later that alphas were the monsters in the dark. Maybe a bad choice, but at least he wouldn't be easily seen. No, it didn't matter—dark or not dark, what could Sanghyuk do if they wanted him in the dark—a thought, pushed away. Quiet. Sanghyuk darted out, cringed against the wall. No, obvious, too obvious he didn't belong. He could run, there was nothing against running—gods, there was nothing that said Sanghyuk _couldn't_ be here. It wasn't far. He knew it wasn't far. He'd been surprised, hadn't he. How close it had been. Ravi. It was called Ravi. It was a store called Ravi. Sanghyuk's steps quickened, involuntary. He could run, but then people would notice him. He didn't want to be noticed. Gods, why were there so many _people_ about. He turned a corner, avoided a group of young men, loud—danger, danger, danger. Walked fast, walked faster. Turned back onto the main street, and yes, he recognised this place, close, so close—he ran.

Sanghyuk sprinted those last few meters, some ten, twenty buildings and there he was, in front of the store. It was dark, now. The same contraptions in the windows but Sanghyuk couldn't see them now, not clearly. There were lights here, in the streets. Far more than there were back home, but still, he couldn't clearly see. The door was locked, the door that Hongbin had so easily pushed open—on the side in big, blocky letters was RAVI, this was the right place. His breath kept catching heavy in his throat, his chest, a need for air and before he could regret it, Sanghyuk pounded on the door. There was no answer—again. There was no point yelling, if the man hadn't heard Sanghyuk's knocking, he wouldn't hear his yelling. He glanced about him, over his shoulder. It was early, yet. People would be awake. Other people might hear him. One more time, his fist striking wood almost painfully and he pleaded with all his heart for Wonsik to hear him.

He wouldn't be asleep, Sanghyuk didn't think, it was too early. His workspace had been downstairs—on the left side, if he were facing the door like this. Maybe there was a window there that would make it easier. There might've been a back door to the kitchen, he couldn't quite recall. If Wonsik didn't answer, where else could Sanghyuk go, what else—

Footsteps, fast, and then a low, gravelly voice: "who is it?"

"Sanghyuk," Sanghyuk said, and he inexplicably blinked back tears of relief. "It's Sanghyuk, today, Hongbin—"

The door opened, cutting off Sanghyuk's rambling and Wonsik was standing there, looking exactly like Sanghyuk had remembered—but of course, it'd been only hours since Sanghyuk had last seen him—seen him for the first time&mdasbut it might as well have been a world ago.

"Please, Jaehwan—"

"Come in first," Wonsik said. He was frowning, and Sanghyuk swallowed but he did, and the door closed behind him. For a brief, brief moment, there was a flash of panic, the instinctive part that said _alpha_ , _alone_ , but Sanghyuk shoved it down because it wasn't true, there was no danger here.

A lamp was turned on, and Sanghyuk blinked as the store brightened. Wonsik started walking to the back of the store, but Sanghyuk didn't move, and Wonsik stopped to stare.

"Please, Jaehwan's missing, I need...Please help, please..." Sanghyuk trailed off, and now he really was blinking back tears. He swallowed, shook his head. "He wasn't home when I went back, I don't know where Hongbin lives, I...he wasn't at the shop."

"Jaehwan's missing?" Wonsik stopped now, turned about to look at Sanghyuk. His brows were creased into a deep frown. "You're sure—"

"Of course I'm sure!" Sanghyuk snapped.

"Hey, I'm not..." Wonsik shook his head, his hands defensively up. His frown had deepened. "Maybe he's back now—"

"I can't just _wait_ ," Sanghyuk said, and then he shook his head. "Maybe, maybe he's...maybe it's nothing, but..."

Wonsik, finally, nodded. "You know him, I don't," he said. "Alright. Come here, I'll show you where Chansik lives—where Hongbin lives."

This time, Sanghyuk did follow him to the back, out of the store. "But you—"

"I'm going to go talk to Hakyeon," Wonsik said, his voice gentle. His eyes were almost piercing as he regarded Sanghyuk. It was a small study they were in, and Wonsik pulled out a map from a cabinet.

"Why Hakyeon, you shouldn't," Sanghyuk said.

Wonsik chuckled drily. "Believe me, if Hakyeon finds out no one told him when his friend was in trouble—even if it is nothing—heads will roll. Especially mine. It's in my best interests, if anything. No, you go find Hongbin, I'll go find Hakyeon—damn, if only the lines...no, no point now." The last bit was muttered to himself. He'd been poring over the map as he talked, and he now tapped at a part of it. Sanghyuk leaned in, clearly meant to look.

"Alright, we're here. It'll be easiest if you just take the main street down, turn here, and there, and Chansik's place is here. Here, I'll copy this bit out for you," Wonsik said, tracing out the path.

"It's fine, I remember," Sanghyuk said. "Which one is it?"

"Hmm. If you turn from here, it's the...third? one down I think. Number fifteen. Row of daffodils, yellow—you know what daffodils look like." Wonsik laughed a little, shook his head at himself.

Sanghyuk nodded, giving the map one more lookover, memorising it.

"C'mon, let's go out this way," Wonsik said.

"Not the front?" Sanghyuk asked, but he followed Wonsik down the hall, and into yet another room. Sanghyuk was beginning to realise that the building was far bigger than he'd realised at first.

"Hakyeon's place is too far to walk to," Wonsik said. "Well, it's not, but I imagine the faster the better, and there's. Well, it's easier to show you."

The lamp went on, and this wasn't a workspace, no, it almost looked like storage, everything here was clearly finished. Sanghyuk frowned as he looked about, followed Wonsik to one corner.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing. It was all metal and wheels—"a Beast?"

Wonsik looked at him in surprise, eyes wide, but then he shook his head. "Not quite, but you're almost right." Two wheels, what was undoubtedly an engine—like a horse. "I'll show you when we have time."

It was with an abrupt jerk back to reality that Sanghyuk realised that they _didn't_ have time, and panic surged back. It must have showed on his face, because Wonsik shook his head and gently touched Sanghyuk on the arm. Sanghyuk startled, but it did help, he was here, Wonsik seemed like he knew what to do.

"Let's go," Wonsik said, opening a door in front of the Beast like thing that opened out into the night. Sanghyuk hadn't seen it at first. "Go find Hongbin."

Sanghyuk nodded, and then with one last look at Wonsik and the thing, destination fixed firmly in his mind, ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after sitting on this for a month i'm posting this two scenes short. life has its hands around my neck and is starting to squeeze :(


	6. Chapter 6

"There's just nothing useful," Hakyeon muttered, flipping through pages of notes. If they could be called notes, consisting mostly of crossed out scribbles. He sat cross legged on the floor, while Taekwoon lounged on Hakyeon's bed. He was idly flipping through one of the books that had been in a pile on Hakyeon's desk, eyes skimming over the words without taking anything in.

"'Sacred heavens meets the earth', that's come up a few times—it must be something to do with alphas and omegas. At least, that's what I'm gathering from context, but gods above there's nothing sacred about it." Hakyeon tapped a finger against a page and then sighed. "But 'heavens meets the earth' implies up and down, so that has to be something."

"Mmm," Taekwoon hummed.

"You were the one who asked me what I'd learned," Hakyeon said. He glared at Taekwoon, but Taekwoon just gave a small, one shouldered shrug and turned back to his reading. His tail twitched lazily every now and then. Hakyeon sighed, turning onto his back. "Then there's something about waking giants, about letting giants sleep, about not waking giants, about summoning light—I can't make heads or tails out of it."

"Mmm." And then: "you're not a hero."

" _What?_ "

Taekwoon sat up. His eyes were steady as he looked at Hakyeon. It matched his tone. "You're trying to be one, but you're not a hero and we're not in a story."

Hakyeon sucked in a sharp breath of air. Let it out slowly. An odd sensation fluttered in his chest—it'd been a tiring day full of ups and downs, and filled out by very boring shifts of duty. He and Taekwoon had fought earlier in the day—it still buzzed faintly beneath his skin.

"I just want to _do something_ ," Hakyeon said.

"What can we do?" Taekwoon asked. He'd asked the same thing weeks ago. Hakyeon remembered, even if Taekwoon didn't, because Taekwoon's words had been an echo of Hakyeon's but with a wholly different meaning. Taekwoon was still looking at him. "What can you do?"

"I'm not trying to be a hero," Hakyeon said, words short and clipped. "I just can't sit around and do nothing."

"It's not our job to do something," Taekwoon said. He paused, frowned. "It's not our place."

"Then why did you tell me about it?" Frustration bubbled in Hakyeon's words. It truly had been a tiring day, and he'd met more dead ends than leads. Perhaps the worst was that he knew there was some truth in what Taekwoon said. "You asked about it just today—what changed your mind so quickly?"

Taekwoon shrugged, infuriatingly unaffected, although his gaze on Hakyeon had turned sharp, and his ears were perked, alert. "It doesn't have anything to do with trying to save the world, which is what you want to do," Taekwoon said. Another pause. "Forces beyond ourselves—you agree too that it's beyond us. I had a lot of time to think, listening to you talk, and I don't think it's something for us to do."

"So we sit here and wait for the world to end?" Hakyeon asked.

A small shrug, nearly imperceptible. He had been the one to bring it to his friend's attention, a chance accidental eavesdropping confirming suspicions of his own. He had told Hakyeon only to tell him, because it felt important, because it would have felt wrong to keep that knowledge to himself. He hadn't told Hakyeon with the hope of Hakyeon _doing_ something. Taekwoon had had a lot of time to think since the afternoon, both on duty and while Hakyeon had talked to Taekwoon about what he'd gathered. It was worrying, it was frightening, but it wasn't something that could be resolved by riding out with brandished swords.

Had a knock not come, Taekwoon may have sorted out his thoughts enough for an answer. Instead, two pairs of ears perked towards the door.

"Come in," Hakyeon called out.

Minseok poked his head through the door with his usual craggly grin. A fellow member of the Third Keys, and endlessly good natured.

"Message came for you," Minseok said. "For Hakyeon, from a Wonsik? He's outside the gates."

"Wonsik?" Taekwoon frowned as he turned to Hakyeon. Hakyeon too, was wearing a frown, although for entirely different reasons.

His frown grew deeper.

"Thanks," Hakyeon said. He got to his feet, his tail swishing restlessly. He forced an easy smile onto his face. "Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem," Minseok said with an offhanded shrug. He disappeared, the door shutting quietly behind him.

"I need to go," Hakyeon said. It was almost mumbled, out of preoccupation. He couldn't begin to fathom why Wonsik might be at the Garden's gates at such a late hour, unplanned and unannounced. It was unlikely to be good, but Hakyeon couldn't think of _what_ wasn't good.

It was in that same preoccupation with which he grabbed a plain jacket, and with which he said "ok," in answer to Taekwoon's question before it even registered.

"Wait, why?" Hakyeon asked, turning on his heel.

Taekwoon had come to rummage through Hakyeon's closet as well and shrugged. "Why can't I come?" he asked.

Hakyeon frowned at him, a hard look. "I never said you couldn't," he said, somewhat short. He sighed, plucked a vest out and pushed it into Taekwoon's chest. He'd have to see about buying Taekwoon clothes soon—very few of Hakyeon's things actually fit Taekwoon. He was unfortunately far too broad across the shoulders.

As if reading Hakyeon's irritation, Taekwoon tweaked Hakyeon's tail, prompting a growl of irritation.

"Fine, then let's go," Hakyeon said. He spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, not waiting for Taekwoon to follow. He'd be following anyway. 

"Who's Wonsik?" Taekwoon asked.

"A friend," Hakyeon said. He frowned. It perplexed him. He and Wonsik may have known each other coincidentally long before Hongbin had introduced them, but they hadn't been close. Wonsik had only paid a visit to Hakyeon once before, out of curiosity. He doubted this was curiosity.

"You have a lot of friends," Taekwoon said, and the tone of his words had Hakyeon quirking an eyebrow and glancing back at him.

"You're jealous?" Hakyeon asked, eyes twinkling. From the way Taekwoon's ear twitched, Hakyeon guessed the answer was yes, even if his face gave nothing away. Cute.

"He's an exceptionally talented gearmaster," Hakyeon explained as they pushed their way into the evening air. Brisk and fresh. "He's childhood friends with Hongbin."

Taekwoon nodded as he kept pace with Hakyeon's long strides. Of course, Taekwoon's legs were even longer. "The one who lives with the two omegas," he said.

"Jaehwan and Sanghyuk, yes," Hakyeon answered, a little absentmindedly. Jaehwan or Sanghyuk. That must've been it. Wonsik had never met Sanghyuk though. The thought made Hakyeon frown harder, and to walk faster.

Taekwoon didn't ask any more questions as they walked. Usually, Hakyeon enjoyed the walk, the lush scenery always put his senses at ease, but right now, his ears were pricked in worry and he couldn't enjoy it in the slightest. 

"Wonsik!" Hakyeon jogged the last bit and out the gates. He was even more concerned when he saw Wonsik was standing next to his...contraption. Wonsik had showed it to him once—it meant that he'd been in a hurry to get here.

"Hakyeon, you came—"

"What happened?"

"What's that?" Taekwoon asked.

"Wonsik, Taekwoon. Taekwoon, Wonsik. Wonsik you can explain later. Is it Jaehwan? Sanghyuk?"

The flash of a frown was all it took to send Hakyeon's stomach plummeting. 

"No, wait, it's just that Sanghyuk came to find me because he said he couldn't find Jaehwan. I'm sure it's nothing serious, but I thought you'd be upset if you found out after—Hakyeon?"

Hakyeon had already started walking past Wonsik. "Sanghyuk's at the house?" he asked without looking back.

"He went to find Hongbin," Wonsik said. Hakyeon stopped, pulled short by Wonsik's iron grip on his arm.

"Alright, we'll stop by the house first," Hakyeon said.

"I thought maybe you could take the bike," Wonsik said slowly.

"Only one person can ride it, and I don't have a death wish," Hakyeon said. "No, Taekwoon and I will take the tram. Faster and safer."

"It's still running?"

"For us," Taekwoon said, finally speaking up. He glanced sideways at Wonsik. "Always."

"Alright," Wonsik said with a nod. "At your house, then."

A brisk nod, and then the loud roar of Wonsik's contraption tearing through the night. A pit of worry in Hakyeon's stomach. But first they would see if Jaehwan was home.

 

 

 

 

The lights were on when Sanghyuk returned with Hongbin. They shared a look, and then ran the rest of the way.

"Jaehwan?" Sanghyuk yelled as he pushed through the door.

It was not Jaehwan. 

At that moment, Sanghyuk, still barely older than a child, felt a certain sort of weary detachment overcome him. There was much he had seen, and much he had experienced, and it had torn childhood away from him, like it had done for countless children of his own age. There was, however, much that Sanghyuk had forgotten, although the impression of those days and years would never leave him, even if the memories had long since fled.

He was also overcome with a very childlike desire to cry. But it was not Wonsik, the sole occupant of the house he and Jaehwan was slowly starting to regard as home, that the inexplicable feeling was urging him to cling to.

"Hakyeon and Taekwoon are searching for him," Wonsik said, quickly intercepting Sanghyuk's questions. Wonsik met Hongbin's eyes, his friend standing slightly behind Sanghyuk.

"Taekwoon?" It was Hongbin who posed the question.

"Hakyeon's friend, although how he can help when he can't know what Jaehwan looks like, I don't know," Wonsik said, frowning. "Tall fellow, looks like someone you wouldn't want to cross. Handsome, though."

At that moment, Sanghyuk, with his mind detached and exhausted, took in Wonsik's words without much thought as he sat on the floor where he'd been standing, leaning against the wall. He was blocking the entry, but little would it matter when there was small chance he would be blocking anyone's passage. The words, however, pinged at his unconscious mind.

"Black hair?" Sanghyuk asked, without really thinking.

Hongbin, however, was thinking, and had to suppress a gasp. He stared first at Sanghyuk, and then at Wonsik who nodded, shrugged.

"You know him?" Wonsik asked. A slight frown.

Hongbin's lips pressed into a thin line. "Perhaps," he said. "If we do, then he'll know exactly what Jaehwan looks like. Never mind, will you watch Sanghyuk? He shouldn't be out alone. I'll keep looking."

"No," Sanghyuk said. "I'll keep looking too."

"No you won't," Hongbin said sternly. "Not even the lower quarters. Besides..."

Besides, the night had grown deep and the sky dark. Sanghyuk may have grown tall and strong, but he was, at his very core, an omega. He would not have been the first young omega to have disappeared while walking through the streets at night, even close to home. Sitting there on the floor, these were more thoughts that prodded through his bare consciousness. It seemed to Sanghyuk that the day had been very long indeed, and that it had been several days all pushed into one. After days—weeks—of unchanging tedium, too much indeed had occurred. A long day. A long night, and the night had not yet ended.

"I'll watch him," Wonsik assured his friend.

"Thank you," Hongbin said, and it was with real feeling. He cared for Sanghyuk, and he cared for him deeply. He did not have the sort of relationship Sanghyuk shared with Jaehwan, but there were still times he couldn't help but regard Sanghyuk as a child who needed to be protected. Sanghyuk, Hongbin always sensed, had never seen Hongbin as someone who would protect him.

The night was indeed deep and dark when Hongbin returned to walk among it. His steps were slow. They had not been slow earlier, Sanghyuk's search harried and haphazard, and Hongbin had had little choice but to follow the boy. He was not with Sanghyuk now. It was odd that Jaehwan had simply disappeared like this. He'd been roused from a half-asleep state, him, Chansik, and Junghwan all loosely tangled together on the bed. It had taken them all several moments to register the pounding on the door—Hongbin had sat up first, shaken Chansik, but it had been Junghwan who'd gone down first to open the door. And then Sanghyuk had been there.

The City at night seemed to be a different place altogether. It didn't seem so long ago, and at the same time, a lifetime ago, since he'd wandered meanderingly from the shop to Chansik's place. The hour had been far later then. Nor had there been the urging purpose with which he walked now.

More than he would have liked to admit, Hongbin had been filled with crushing dread when Jaehwan hadn't been waiting for them. Loss and uncertainty did that to a person. He'd turned his steps in the opposite direction from where they'd come from, away from the well worn path between Chansik's place and Hakyeon's—now Jaehwan and Sanghyuk's—apartment. He still didn't run, despite how much the panicked part of his mind pushed him to. Running didn't seem like it would do much good—it hadn't done for Sanghyuk. Instead, he began to walk a systematic search, as systematic as one could in the tangle of streets. The City had not so much been built, as it had grown: streets paved in the spaces between buildings, buildings squeezed together here, spaced sparse with large yards there. Here, in the central district, it wasn't so bad.

There were few reasons why Jaehwan might not have returned home well past nightfall. One: that he had been at the store, and had lost track of time. A possibility that had been ruled out already by Sanghyuk. Two: he had taken a long walk and had gotten lost. Three: he had decided to stay the night at a friend's place, but Hongbin knew that Jaehwan would never have done that without notice. Four, and the only real option: he was somehow unable to return home.

It was a thought that sent chills through Hongbin, his fur standing on end.

It was also a thought that sent Hongbin's search along the borders of the central and lower districts, and one that had his path meeting Hakyeon's. It was the alpha who saw him first and called out his name. Hongbin's ears perked up, his eyes scanning through the darkness. It was easy to see Hakyeon jogging towards him.

"Sanghyuk found you," Hakyeon said, by way of greeting. There was a deep frown on Hongbin's face, a grim sort of look that Hongbin didn't enjoy seeing. It didn't bode well. Hakyeon had come from the other direction.

"Yeah," Hongbin said for lack of anything else, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"You thought this would be the most likely place too?" Hakyeon asked. He nodded towards a street neither of them had walked yet. Hongbin followed.

"I don't know," Hongbin said truthfully.

"Mm," Hakyeon hummed, and that drew a frown from Hongbin. There was something there in Hakyeon's words that weren't being said. Something that Hongbin didn't know.

Hongbin had always been clever, however, and it didn't take much to grasp that Hakyeon must have come, in part, to the same conclusions as Hongbin did. As to why Jaehwan might not have been safely at home, during this night. Then there were the things that Hakyeon had said, those few weeks ago—or more precisely, that Hakyeon had said and that Jaehwan, after much determined questioning, had revealed to Hongbin.

"There've been more haven't there," Hongbin said very softly. "Takings."

It was with great reluctance that Hakyeon nodded.

"Near here—between the central and lower quarters," Hongbin said. Asked. Said. It was hard to say which. Another reluctant nod. "But it's _Jaehwan_."

It had been a clear day, but the breeze had been slowly carrying clouds over from the waters, and thin clouds now obscured the stars. It made for a darker night, even more so as lights in windows began to fade; both the pale glow of the lamps and the soft gold of flames.

"It's good then, we haven't found him here," Hongbin said. He glanced at Hakyeon, his friend, usually so voluble, but drawn solemn and quiet.

"Perhaps," Hakyeon said—and Hongbin was struck by a sudden memory, years ago, some five years ago, shortly after he and Jaehwan had first met. A story told haltingly yet matter-of-factly by Jaehwan himself, about something that had happened, about something between Jaehwan and Hakyeon, about why, for Jaehwan, it was so important to be able to face an alpha, and stand his ground.

If a chill had run through Hongbin earlier, it gripped at his very bones and froze him to the spot now.

"You don't think—"

"No," Hakyeon said quickly. The glance he flickered towards Hongbin's direction was sharp. Firm. Determined. 

A pause, and then Hongbin asked a question that had been prodding softly at him ever since he had left Sanghyuk with Wonsik.

"Taekwoon is the alpha from that day," Hongbin said. Asked. Said. It didn't, again, matter. Another sharp glance, another nod—far less reluctant.

Hongbin blew out a long breath.

"I'll go that way," he said. He pointed down the hill. Better him than Hakyeon. Another pause. "Where is... Taekwoon?"

The name left a distaste in Hongbin's mouth that he couldn't quite place. Perhaps it was anger, more than distaste. A lingering hatred. If it could be called hatred. The same entity, only it now had a name.

"I don't know," Hakyeon said. "He disappeared before I could ask. We did agree to meet back in two hours."

He pulled out a watch, tucked into one of his inner pockets. It was dark enough that Hakyeon had to hold it close to his face and squint. "Perhaps around now," Hakyeon said. He looked at Hongbin, and in the dark, it was difficult to discern exactly what sort of expression Hakyeon had. 

Hongbin knew that retracing their steps back to the house would be no less fruitful than continuing to wander the streets. Even so, he felt obligated to protest—a protest that was quickly cut off by Hakyeon.

They made their way back in silence. The city, at night, could be very silent depending on where one was. This was one such place. Earlier, Hongbin had crossed one of the tram lines, past one of the many pubs that had strung themselves along such places. Loud, boisterous, well lit. Hongbin had waved off a young woman's suggestion he join her for a drink, even managing a small laugh, although the manner of her dress and asking left little doubt as to what sort of drink, and what sort of services she might provide. Here, however, there were few lights, and silence. 

Taekwoon. So that had been his name. It had been three weeks, but it was still easy for Hongbin to conjure up the image of the alpha. His eyes, really—Hongbin was sure he'd recognise them anywhere. Hakyeon's friend. Of course Hakyeon would have known who he was. Of course Hakyeon would have vouched that he would never bother them again. The thought of him alone with Jaehwan left Hongbin with whispers of chills reaching for his spine, but it would at least mean that Jaehwan, was in some manner, found. Hongbin did not like to think that the thought he'd just had implied that Jaehwan, was at this moment, lost. Missing.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Hakyeon said. Hakyeon's words tugged Hongbin from his thoughts—they were meant to be reassuring, but the slight waver in them only distracted him further.

"Yes," Hongbin said, with equal conviction. They were reaching the street, one that had grown familiar over these two weeks. It was easy to find their way, even if it had not been so familiar: theirs was the only windows which were still lit.

They entered in the same silence they had walked much of the way in together. Hakyeon opened the door—unlocked, of course. There was no sound, no greeting, and Hongbin and Hakyeon shared a look—a numb look. 

"Sanghyuk? Wonsik?" Hongbin kicked off his shoes, followed the light into the kitchen. Still, it was stuffed to the brim with flowers. Among them, pressed against the small table, Wonsik and Sanghyuk sat, Sanghyuk with his knees pulled to his chest, his bare feet curling about the edge of the chair. He looked up at Hongbin's approach, and there was no surprise in his eyes when Hongbin slowly shook his head. He merely dropped his chin to rest against his knees again. He too, must have made the same deduction that Hongbin had, at the silence when the door had opened.

"Taekwoon's not back yet?" Hakyeon asked Wonsik. It was an obvious answer, but it was to a question that needed to be asked.

"No, nothing," Wonsik said.

Hakyeon nodded, squeezed between two large planters to the stove. He set the kettle boiling, and found the tea. Hongbin was staring, like everyone who had come into the kitchen since Jaehwan had left, at the cake on the table, strikingly incongruous. It almost made him want to laugh, what a strange sight it made.

Hongbin let himself drop into a third chair—it scraped against the ground, the sound grating. He winced, but he was alone in doing so. 

When Hongbin looked at Sanghyuk, it was a Sanghyuk he had never seen. It was not like the day when the alpha—when Taekwoon—had come to them. It was not like how Hongbin had found him, collapsed on the ground next to Jaehwan, nor was it like when Hongbin had returned to the shop, sweaty, out of breath, to find Sanghyuk and Hakyeon and Jaehwan all in a room together.

Had Hongbin met Sanghyuk some eight years ago, it was a Sanghyuk he might have recognised, even if it was a Sanghyuk who had been small and scrawny, underfed and unsure. It was a Sanghyuk sunk deep into his thoughts, memories long since blurred, into scenarios past and future. It was not despair, or even disappointment—except for that brief moment when he had looked up and met Hongbin's eyes. 

"Here." All three of them looked up, as Hakyeon pushed steaming cups of tea in front of all three of them. He picked up a fourth, leaned against the counter, because the fourth chair was occupied by a pot of baby's breath.

"We'll wait," Hakyeon said. He nudged the cup closer to Sanghyuk, who had made no move to take it. Hongbin could not see the look in Sanghyuk's eyes as he looked suddenly up towards Hakyeon, but there was nothing but gentle kindness in Hakyeon's as he nodded. Hongbin wrapped his hands around his own, as had Wonsik.

"I can go take a look," Wonsik offered. "Since you're all back."

"No," Hakyeon said, shaking his head. "We'll wait for Taekwoon, and then decide what to do. He may have found Jaehwan."

Hongbin couldn't have stopped his snort of disbelief even if he'd wanted to. "Him? That _alpha_? For all we know—"

"Hongbin!" Wonsik cut Hongbin off. Hakyeon merely stared at him. There was more fire and steel in his gaze than Hongbin had ever seen, and it was enough to flatten his ears, for him to whimper and bow his head.

"I trust him." It was the first thing Sanghyuk had said since Hongbin had returned with Hakyeon. Spoken quietly, but firmly. Hongbin's mouth had fallen slightly open without him realising it, meeting Sanghyuk's steady gaze.

" _Why?_ "

"Because Hakyeon trusts him, and I trust Hakyeon," Sanghyuk said simply. "As do you. As does Wonsik. And as does Jaehwan."

"He's the one why you're in this whole mess in the first place!" Hongbin clenched his fists, lip almost curling into a snarl before he stopped himself.

"No, if not him, it could have been anyone else. If not me, it would have been someone else," Sanghyuk said. He glanced back at Hakyeon. "Am I right?"

Three pairs of eyes fixed themselves on Hakyeon, and Hakyeon's eyes fell shut, softly, quietly. An answer. A deep breath. Another answer.

"Perhaps," Hakyeon said, his eyes opening. A different answer.

"Then we wait," Sanghyuk said, and it was with a finality that took away any words Hongbin might have in reply. 

And so, they waited.

Their tea cooled, the cups were drained. Hakyeon put the kettle on again, but before it had boiled, there came a thump at the door.

"Taekwoon?" Hakyeon yelled.

Hongbin was already at the door, his heart pounding, snatching it open.

It was a miracle he did not fall. Had he seen Taekwoon alone, as Jaehwan had earlier in the day, he would have launched himself at him, teeth bared and tail bristling. Had he seen Jaehwan alone, he would have… 

But in front of him was the alpha, Jaehwan on his back.

So all Hongbin did was grip the door, and stare.

"You found him!" Hakyeon shoved past Hongbin, took Jaehwan into his arms as one might carry a child. Jaehwan's eyes opened, bleary, blank. He was dirty, face smudged, the hems of his pants stained dark.

And there was the alpha.

But while Hongbin stood there, wanting to rush forward, clutch at Jaehwan as Sanghyuk now did, tears pooling in fast reddening eyes, Taekwoon merely strode past him, tugged the door from Hongbin's lax grip and shut it, the sound loud, despite the sudden commotion in front of him.

"Where did you find him?" Hongbin finally asked.

The tableau in front of him felt surreal—Jaehwan had been crying, Hongbin could now see. Sanghyuk was gripping at his hand. Hakyeon was still holding him. Wonsik had come, and stood nearby.

"Down," Taekwoon said, and, like so many people had remarked before him, Hongbin was struck by how soft the alpha's voice was, how unlike an alpha should sound. He glanced at Hongbin, appraising, and Hongbin nearly curled up on himself. Hongbin could not have known that it was mere curiosity, for Taekwoon had never truly seen Hongbin.

"How did you know he'd be there?"

"A frightened animal won't flee towards danger," Taekwoon said. "It'll run as far as it can. He was at the docks."

The docks. Yes, Hongbin recalled, Jaehwan had once worked at the docks.

"How did you know he'd be at the docks?" Hongbin asked, and he knew he was being hostile, too hostile, his eyes sharp on the alpha. If he didn't, he felt like he really would curl up, would back up with his tail behind his legs like an omega. He didn't like feeling like this, but too much had happened.

A shrug that wasn't quite a shrug. "I looked there," Taekwoon said, as if it would solve everything.

From behind Hongbin, Hakyeon's eyes had drifted towards Taekwoon, the same question that Hongbin had asked also firmly in his mind. It didn't matter though. Not now. Taekwoon met Hakyeon's eyes, and there was a different question in them. Enough for Hakyeon to stand, tap Hongbin on the shoulder and gesture at Jaehwan who was now curled up on himself and sitting against the wall, Sanghyuk with his arms about him and sobbing into his shoulder.

Hongbin nodded, walked over to the two of them, tugged Jaehwan to his feet.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," he murmured.

Satisfied, Hakyeon followed Taekwoon outside, closing the door behind them. The night was silent and still.

"He was very frightened," Taekwoon said. There was a flash of white as he tugged at his lower lip with his teeth, before he caught his lips between his teeth and shook it off.

"Of you?" Hakyeon asked—he wasn't expecting Taekwoon to shake his head.

"I think he saw an alpha take an omega," Taekwoon said. His eyes were downcast, not meeting Hakyeon's. "But he knew it wasn't me."

"'Wasn't you'," Hakyeon repeated. It was soft enough that it was even quieter in tone than Taekwoon's original words. Yes, if he had, that would have frightened Jaehwan. No,not frightened—Jaehwan was not so easily frightened. Jaehwan was stupidly, foolishly headstrong and brave. Hakyeon had not seen Jaehwan in some time, it was true, but a person's nature was not so easily changed.

"Thank you," Hakyeon said. He smiled at Taekwoon, and his friend ducked his head. Even in the darkness, there was the sense of a pink flush at the tips of his ears, and Hakyeon's smile grew fonder.

"I don't understand him," Taekwoon said.

Hakyeon laughed. "You wouldn't be the first," Hakyeon said. He glanced up—the spires of the Key were stark against the backdrop of the night. "Let's go in. It's late."

The door opened. It was Wonsik.

"We put him to bed," Wonsik said. "I don't live so far—I don't think there's room for me anyway. You'll have to share."

Taekwoon's confusion was palpable behind Hakyeon. Hakyeon nodded, felt tears well up in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said to Wonsik.

Wonsik waved him off. "Hey, it's easiest for me to get home."

"No, that's not what I meant," Hakyeon said. Wonsik, however, shook his head.

"That's Sanghyuk," he said. "Good kid. Good head on his shoulders." A pause. "Jaehwan has good friends."

"You're one of them," Hakyeon pointed out, and Wonsik shrugged slightly.

"I should go—it's late. Send for me if anything comes up," Wonsik said. He raised a hand in a casual wave, walking past Taekwoon to where he'd left his contraption—noisy thing, Hakyeon didn't doubt it would have startled at least some of the neighbours awake.

Hakyeon did turn to go inside then. He stopped when Taekwoon didn't follow.

"We're not going home?" Taekwoon asked.

"I'd like to be here in the morning," Hakyeon said. "We don't have a shift tomorrow morning."

"But—"

"It's late, let's sleep," Hakyeon said.

There was a surge of irritation from behind him, but Taekwoon did follow him inside. There was, Hakyeon suddenly realised, still a cake on the table. Untouched. He laughed, and then unexpectedly sagged backwards against Taekwoon. Taekwoon squeaked in surprise, and that only made Hakyeon laugh again as Taekwoon wrapped his arms about Hakyeon's waist. Hakyeon let even more of his weight fall against Taekwoon's chest.

"It's been quite a day," he said, and Taekwoon's nod brushed against the top of Hakyeon's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, i think i have to admit i don't think i'll be finishing this :( i've gotten distracted by new shiny things, undoubtedly a bad habit. but now that ficmix is out of the way (and i aM NOT ALLOWED TO DO ANY MORE FIC FESTS/EXCHANGES) i'd like to try focussing on one of the two projects i had to put aside for ficmix orz. but i figured i might as well write the last...200 words or w/e of this chapter and post it since i have. literally. had most of it written for months.
> 
> my bad, and thank you for reading up to this point n_n


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